


Frozen

by ParadiseAvenger



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Child Abuse, Gen, awareness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:12:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 25
Words: 93,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack Frost finds two children lost in the woods, the Guardians discover more about the siblings and Jack Frost than they had ever expected. “There is clause in Guardian Handbook,” North began. “It says that if child should ever need help and no one will provide it, that child will be transported to Guardian most able to help them.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lost Children

Please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! **The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger.** (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

…

 **NOTE:** In this story, none of the Guardians ever met Jamie and Sophie in the movie. Just imagine their roles were filled by some other kids.

X X X

_“I think… that when you remember everything at once, when it’s all over, when it all comes back to you… The things you’d forgotten and might not want to remember… A kaleidoscope of memories just rushing back at you with more force than any snowstorm… Maybe I wasn’t ready… Or maybe, forgetting was better…_

_“Maybe that was why I forgot in the first place. Or maybe that was why the Man in the Moon took my memories from me and gave me a new life. Maybe it wasn’t punishment or torment like I originally thought… Maybe, it was the kindest act of mercy anyone had ever bestowed upon me… Maybe it was a gift to forget, but I threw that gift away…_

_“I wanted to remember and now… I think… I just want to forget again… but I can’t.”_

Flowers of ice spread beneath Jack Frost’s every step. Behind him, he half-heartedly listened to the raucous crashing and cursing of the yetis as they slipped and fell on the slippery path that was left in his wake. Interspersed with the loud sounds of yetis falling, he heard the noisy jingle of elves slipping and sliding, chattering in their high-pitched little voices. Usually, Jack Frost would have stopped to laugh at the mishap he had created or fled swiftly before Phil could get his paws on him or else collapsed into a fit of apologies, but this time, Jack just continued walking as if he hadn’t heard the commotion at his back. 

Distracted was kind of an understatement to describe Jack Frost right now. Ever since regaining his memories of his life as a human and defeating Pitch Black, Jack had been more than distracted. His head was far higher in the clouds than usual and nothing was bringing it down. Jack walked on, unaware, distracted, his glacial eyes unseeing.

Phil sensed that something was really wrong with Jack this time—that this was not a mere trick to trip up the workshop before Christmas. So Phil, not only being too uncoordinated to follow after the young spirit on his path of ice but also being rather concerned, decided to let Nicholas St. North handle the matter. 

It only took three words— _Jack Frost_ and _trouble_ —to get North out of his office and at Jack’s heels. Having fully expected a prank-gone-wrong or other disaster-of-epic-proportions, North was a little surprised to only find a path of beautifully blooming ice and many yetis and elves with sore bottoms lying in the upstairs hallway. They all looked at North with mixed expressions of annoyance and concern.

Jack was just walking, staring straight ahead and looking for all the world like he had no idea the trouble he was causing.

“Jack!” North’s voice boomed out through the workshop. Then, the Russian cursed as the ice nearly took his feet out from under him when he tried to follow after Jack down the slippery hall. How on earth did the boy make walking on thin ice look so easy? “Jack Frost!” he shouted.

Jack continued walking down the upper halls of the workshop, ice fanning behind him, as if he didn’t even hear North’s voice or the noisy falling of yetis and elves. His pale eyes were far-seeing, focused on the patterns of frosty flowers that spread between his toes or maybe something else entirely. 

“Jack!” North shouted, staggering and sliding his way up behind the winter child. 

When he was within arm’s range, he grasped Jack’s narrow shoulders and forced the boy to whirl to face him. Jack’s feet slid easily on the sheet of ice, his small body easy to manhandle, and North was a strong man to begin with. Even so, though he had grabbed Jack on a few other occasions and his grip now was not tight, Jack reacted oddly.

His head snapped up, pale lips parting slightly, and his eyes… His eyes froze North to his very core. There was something shadowed in those beautiful sky-blue eyes that hadn’t been there before. They were the eyes of a wounded animal—wide, fragile, and oh-so tragic, begging, pleading. But before North could decipher more than that, the moment passed. Jack blinked and his eyes cleared, his pale fingers curving around his staff as he stared up at North.

“Hey,” Jack said nonchalantly, smiling broadly, “What’s up, North?”

“W-what is up?” North choked out, shock freezing his tongue too the roof of his mouth.

Jack’s brow lifted. “I haven’t broken anything, honest, and if you found a frozen elf, I assure you that he deserved it,” he explained quickly to cover the bases that usually got him into trouble first and foremost. “And whatever Phil told you was a lie. I didn’t do anything to let out the reindeer or otherwise ruin Christmas.”

North continued to stare at Jack, stunned.

“And I haven’t done anything to Bunny either,” Jack added, glancing at his surroundings to try to figure out what was going on that had North grabbing a hold of him and refusing to let go. Suddenly, he became aware of the platform of ice that was spread beneath his feet and down the hallway in near entirety. He swallowed, releasing his power on the ice and watching it turn into mere water. “Did I do that?” he asked softly. “I didn’t mean to.”

With the sheet of ice gone, the elves and yetis began to pick themselves up and dust themselves off. Phil shook his hairy fist at Jack, but Jack saw concern in the big creature’s eyes. He must have done something either very bad or very strange.

“North?” Jack asked. He kept his voice strong and firm, but some part of him must have betrayed how nervous he really felt because North gave him a big smile and clapped him on the shoulder.

“No harm done,” North said with a booming laugh. “Very funny, Jack.”

“But—” Jack protested because he hadn’t even intended for this to be a mischievous prank. He hadn’t realized the floor beneath his feet was being covered in ice as he walked by. His powers hadn’t been that out of his control—ruled by his emotions and desire to survive—since his birth on the frozen lake over three hundred years ago. 

He was concerned. He’d never thought regaining his memories could cause something like this to happen to him!

North released Jack’s shoulder and took a small step back. “But Jack… maybe you want to go outside in snow for little while…” At Jack’s stricken look, North quickly added to assure the boy that he wasn’t being thrown out. “Just so yetis can clean up and calm down. Elves, too.”

Jack nodded slowly, studying the mess he had made of his new home. “Sorry,” he whispered. Then, without further ado, he let the wind lift him off his feet and usher him out the nearest window. There were light fluffy flakes falling outside and Jack’s pale body was quickly lost within them.

North’s mind returned to the sight of Jack’s eyes, his heart hammering. What was that expression on the young Guardian’s face? They all knew that Jack had been hurt by his three hundred years of abandonment, but for the first time, North wondered to what extent Jack had been hurt. There was something in those eyes that Jack’s bright smile did not reach. It was a piece of him that was completely and thoroughly broken and yet… North could not remember seeing that pain in Jack’s eyes until recently. 

This… it was something new. 

North promised himself that he would keep a close eye on his young friend, watching for this problem to either come fully to the surface of sink back into the depths of Jack’s soul. But Christmas was drawing near and North had larger concerns than the flighty and strange nature of the lonely spirit-boy, Jack Frost. Unless it caused a true problem, North was content to let Jack keep his secrets to himself.

…

The wind tossed Jack about, enjoying how plaint his body was, and Jack just allowed the wind to have complete control over him. The wind was the only being he really trusted to have his back, to protect and comfort him. In all his three hundred years of immortal and tormented life, the wind was the only thing that stayed at his side, as trustworthy as the staff he had used to save his sister from death. He sighed, breath pluming on the cold air, as the wind tossed him through the sky above the North Pole.

Reclining against the curve of the wind’s embrace, holding his staff tightly, Jack allowed his mind to drift. He should have known better than to let his guard down so completely, even in the comfort of his best friend. After all, the wind had been around far longer than he had and had grown rather adept at playing even better tricks than Jack himself.

One moment, Jack was enjoying the support of the wind. 

The next, total and complete freefall.

Jerked from his thoughts, he dropped several feet, a yelp of surprise escaping his lips. He was desperately about to call for the wind to save him, to form a snowdrift to cushion his fall, to try to steer himself into the branches of a tree—anything to save himself from what would be a painful and bone-crushing landing on the frozen ground. But all his worry was unnecessary. Jack landed safely in a deep snowdrift, his body cushioned softly, and the drop had only been a few feet anyway. The wind, though tricky and playful, would never really hurt him.

In fact, the wind seemed a little insulted by his doubt, but it couldn’t really blame the boy. It knew just how much pain and suffering Jack had been through.

“Sorry,” Jack whispered to the wind. “I know you’d never hurt me. I’m just… I’m feeling a little strange lately…”

As a sign that it forgave him, the wind lifted Jack from the drift and set him back on his feet. 

Frost spread beneath Jack’s toes, giving him a more solid surface to stand on in the thick drifts of the North Pole. He glanced around at the unfamiliar area. To his left, there was a steep slope of a hill that led into a swiftly-flowing river that he knew came down from the mountains and then led out to the sea just by the scent of the water. To his right, there was a dark forest of pine trees dusted beautifully with light snow. The tracks of wolves ringed its edge.

Jack fancied himself a sort of explorer and couldn’t resist the temptation. He had never seen a real wolf before—only in picture books he spied over kids’ shoulders and in dreams Sandman sent him. It would be great to explore the forest and maybe even find the wolves that had left those tracks to keep him out of his own head. After all, North wanted him out of the workshop long enough for the yetis to pull themselves together and forgive Jack for his antics. Exploring the woods would help the time go faster and have the added effect of keeping him from thinking.

Jack swung his staff across his shoulders comfortably and walked across the thick snow, enjoying the crisp fresh air scented with pine trees. “This much be where Christmas air fresheners come from,” he said out loud. It was a habit from being alone for three hundred years that he hadn’t quite been able to break yet. There was a time when he had only heard his own voice, but he had friends now and he really should stop talking to himself before someone thought he really was crazy.

Jack followed the wolf tracks for a long time, weaving between trees with the wind nudging eagerly at his back all the while. He frosted the pine trees, making them sparkle, and tested a few birds that saw fit to swoop in on his head when he came too close to their nests. He was having fun, enjoying the fact that he didn’t have to hide anything from the wind and himself out here. He didn’t have to smile and convince everyone around him that everything was fine or be on his best behavior for fear that the Guardians would tire of him and banish him back to his lonely existence.

The sun sank low on the horizon, casting Jack’s shadow long and slender before him. He should really head back to North’s before the Russian sent out a search party for him. Besides, the yetis and elves were bound to have relaxed by now. He was just about to call for the wind to take him home when he heard a sound.

‘Wolves,’ was his first thought, caught between eagerness to see one and fear that they would eat him. He had been chased by enough dogs over the years to know that canines could see him regardless of how their masters felt about him and he wasn’t keen to find out how wolves would react to seeing him.

But the sound was too noisy for a wolf and he could have sworn he could make out a voice. But who on earth would be this deep in the woods at this hour? Hunters maybe? With dogs?

He shuddered at the thought. 

Jack turned away, content to hurry back to the workshop and enjoy some of the elves’ cookies, but the sound stopped him again. It sounded like someone crunching through the snow, tripping and stumbling. He could have sworn he heard a child’s voice, but there was no reason at all for a child to be here… was there?

Jack wove deeper into the forest, following the strange sounds until he reached a small clearing. Shock stilled Jack’s heart, a chill that had nothing to do with winter running through his body.

Staggering through the treacherous woods was a young boy. He might have been barely eight, maybe even younger for how thin and small he was, and he was woefully underdressed for the freezing weather of the North Pole. He wasn’t wearing his winter jacket, but instead kept it clutched strangely to his chest. Even as Jack watched, the boy stumbled and went down on his knees in the thick now, shivering, teeth chattering. 

Jack knelt beside the boy, softly whispering, “Hey.” 

He reached to touch the boy’s thin shoulder, but his hand passed through him with the prickle of pain he was so used to feeling. He didn’t know why he thought this lost boy would be able to see him. No one saw him except those few children in Burgess. Just because he was a Guardian now, the fact that no one believed in him didn’t change. He sighed heavily, sadly.

It was then that Jack realized there were not only one, but two children here in the forest.

The boy wasn’t clutching his empty winter jacket to his chest. There was a young girl, maybe three-years-old, swathed protectively within it. She appeared to be unconscious, her head lolling over the boy’s arm and her eyes tightly closed. Her mouth was twisted with pain, her tiny fingers clenched in the soft cotton of a stuffed rabbit, and Jack thought he spied blood in her hair. 

His heart stopped.

The boy bit his lower lip hard, halting his chattering teeth, and then began to talk to himself. “Get up,” he told himself firmly in a voice that was far too adult for such a young child. “Get up before you freeze to death.” 

Then, apparently from sheer power of will, he forced himself to his feet and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Shivering, he grasped the little girl together to his chest and looked at the dark surrounding woods. The sun was setting, darkness seeping in from all sides.

Fresh hopeless tears welled in the boy’s dark eyes. “S-stop crying,” he told himself harshly. “Crying is stupid.” He staggered forward a few steps and then looked down at the unconscious little girl in his arms. “It’ll be okay, Sophie,” the boy said. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll get out of here.” But even as he said those words, his voice cracked as uncontrollable sobs welled up in his chest. 

Shaken, Jack quickly looked around, his ears straining. Were these children lost? How had they gotten out here? Where were their parents? And, more importantly, even if Jack found out the answers to any of these questions, what exactly was he going to do about it? He was invisible to humans, adults and children alike.

Then, the young boy said something that chilled Jack’s blood. “Crying is stupid. _You’re_ stupid!”

Jack whirled around, thinking the boy was somehow talking to him and hope buoyed his heart even as it broke anew, but he wasn’t. He was talking to himself, ripping apart what must have been frail childhood confidence. He whispered hateful words to himself, tears flowing freer and faster than before. 

“That’s why Mommy doesn’t love you,” he hissed to himself. “That’s why Daddy’s so mean. It’s all your fault. It’s because you’re stupid!” Then, he broke down sobbing. His small arms coiled around his freezing body, nails raking the thin long-sleeved shirt as he cried into his knees. “It’s all my fault! Stop crying! Crying is stupid, just like you are!”

Jack approached the boy, crouching beside him in the snow and begged whoever would listen to let this child see him so he could help. But no such deity was listening and nothing happened. The boy continued to cry and night fell deeper and darker without care for the children’s plight. A cold wind howled down from the mountains.

“It’s all my fault,” he choked out. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault we’re out here…” He stroked the little girl’s face, pushing her pale hair back into the shelter of the jacket she was wrapped in. There was a knot of blood tangled in the hair at her temple just above her brow. “I’m so sorry, Sophie.”

Jack made a rash decision, his heart splitting. Abruptly, he whipped the wind and ice into a frenzy. This boy couldn’t see him and he couldn’t touch the children, but he could still control the snowy world around them. The boy shrieked in surprise as the snow beneath him turned into ice and they started sliding. 

“No, no, no!” the boy screamed, desperately clutching the small girl closer. “We’re going to crash!” He tried to stop his slide, but to no avail. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around the unconscious little girl tighter, curving in his shoulders to protect her, and steeled his face into an expression that showed none of the fear he must have felt.

But Jack had over three hundred years of instigating wild sled rides under his belt all in the hopes that a child would see him. He was practically a master at this, aside from the occasional flyaway couch that still caused him problems and ruined his plans. Letting the wind carry him along beside them, he navigated the path of ice out of the woods. Though gravity wanted to bring the young children down the steep incline near the water, Jack laughed in its face. Picking up speed, the children slipped along behind him.

As the sled picked up more and more speed and began to take wilder turns, the boy began to scream despite his resolve. The screaming was so loud that Jack had a feeling he wouldn’t even need to tell North he was coming or why. 

Sure enough, North, several yetis, and a veritable horde of elves were all waiting outside the workshop when Jack and his young charges skidded to a stop in front of them.  
The boy immediately fell silent, desperately panting for breath and giving Jack a moment to explain. 

“Jack,” North began, looking over the young boy before him, “What is going on?”

“I found them wandering alone in the woods. I think they need help. At the very least, I needed to stop them from freezing to death,” Jack explained, but North’s brow was still lifted slightly. “Since they can’t see me and I can’t touch them,” he gestured to the impromptu slide he had created, “I didn’t know how else to get them here.”

North bellowed a laugh and clapped Jack on the back. “Very good, Jack, A for effort,” he said.

The young boy finally found his voice and now eyed the massive Russian before him. For a moment, he was silent. Then, he breathed out, “Santa Claus?”

Then, he went quiet, watching North closely. He was also probably wondering why he seemed to be talking to himself. Or maybe why he had a slew of large furry creatures at his back. Or maybe why there was an army of small jingling elves surrounding his ankles. Or, heck, maybe he was wondering how on earth he and the little girl had even gotten here from the dark woods.

Jack had only a vague idea of what the boy was thinking and he didn’t want to share that knowledge with his companion. Honestly, he was hoping he was wrong.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns? 


	2. Bunnymund's Boomerang

I’m so happy everyone seems to be enjoying this story! I’m going to try to update it every Monday so check back for new chapters!

X X X

After a moment where everyone gathered their thoughts, North crouched down in the snow to be eyelevel with the boy. “Hello,” he said. Somehow, his great booming voice had reduced itself to a calm and gentle volume. It was that voice that had originally lulled Jack into a calm enough state that North could convince him to come off his half-frozen lake and talk nearly two hundred years ago when they met for the very first time. “What is name?” he asked the boy.

Jack felt something inside him relax. The children were in capable hands, even if his fellow Guardians hadn’t really been around kids in over three hundred years. He had been concerned that since they had a hard enough time dealing with him that the children might just be a little too much. Then again, Bunnymund had been fantastic with that little girl who had managed to break into his Warren so close to Easter. Maybe the Guardians weren’t as out of it as Jack thought.

The boy stared at North for a long moment before he finally said, “My sister needs help.”

“Sister?” North repeated and his wide blue eyes strayed to Jack incredulously before he quickly parted the fabric of the boy’s winter coat to reveal the little girl wrapped protectively inside it. She murmured softly as he brushed her hair back to inspect the injury at her temple, but didn’t wake.

“Please, you have to help her!” the boy half-shouted, panic seeping in through his too-adult voice. “Please!”

“Yes, yes,” North said. “Quickly, inside!” Without further ado, he gathered both children up in his arms and carried them inside with Jack opening the doors for them. He turned to Jack then, whispering under his breath so the boy would not hear him, “Jack, call Guardians. There have not been children in North Pole for over five hundred years. There is problem.”

Jack nodded, letting the wind sweep him to the Globe Room faster than North could even blink. Stumbling over his own feet in his haste, Jack reached the signal and prayed it would work for him. There was a time when he would have liked nothing more than to yank this thing for a great prank and he hoped it would work for him regardless of his mischievous nature. 

“Honest,” he whispered to the handle of the Northern Lights, “We have a real problem. North told me too.” 

But he needn’t have spoken to the signal as if it was a living object that would reject him. He was a Guardian now, not merely the prankster wild child Jack Frost. It lit beneath his hand as he wrapped his fingers around the handle. It was surprisingly difficult to turn and even harder to push in, but Jack managed. 

He quickly turned, rushing to the window to make sure it had worked. Sure enough, the bright and colorful lights of the aurora spread across the cloudy sky, fanning out in all directions. Jack’s heart swelled with pride to be part of the group responsible for protecting childhood. For so long, he hadn’t been a part of anything and now… it was more than he could have asked for.

With the Guardian signal safely rolling out over the globe, Jack hurried to the infirmary where North was tending to the little girl’s wound. Invisible to the children, Jack stood beside North and watched as the large Russian cleaned the injury and revealed it to be nothing more than a cut that had bled too much as head injuries were often apt to do.

“She is alright,” North said.

The boy let out a breath of relief. “Really?”

“Yes,” North said. “Was little cut. See, I put nice Barbie band-aid on it.”

“Thank you,” the boy whispered. Then, he slid to his knees and passed out.

North deftly caught the boy by the back of his shirt and lifted him onto the bed beside his sister. He tucked them both in, smoothing the blankets over them neatly and then turned to Jack. “You found them where?”

“In the woods,” Jack said, his worried gaze fastened to the children. “Are they okay? What are they doing here?”

North hushed him. “I will explain later. Now, you meet others in the hall. I must check something.”

Jack would have liked to protest and demand answers, but North was already leaving the room, grumbling under his breath about the elves as they scurried out of his way. With one final glance at the two sleeping children, Jack rushed after his fellow Guardian. 

…

Bunnymund arrived first, one of his tunnels opening and closing and leaving only a small flower to show it have ever been there. As usual, Bunny was tall and formidable, but shivering and shaking snow out of his fur reduced his presence. “Blimey, it’s cold,” he chattered out. “What’s going on?” Then, he laid eyes on Jack and his entire expression went steely. “Frostbite, I swear if you pulled that bloody thing as a prank I’ll tan your hide!”

Jack took a step back, lowering his staff threateningly. It was hard to erase three hundred years of strife in only a few weeks and he had been attacked by his fellow spirits too many times to count. Bunny himself had beaten Jack senseless back after the Blizzard of ’68 and Jack was not eager to repeat that. “Why must you always assume the worst of me, Bunny?”

“Because it’s usually true,” Bunny snarled out, his upper lip curling. He grabbed his boomerang, aiming it at Jack’s head. “Did you or didn’t you pull that as a prank?”

Tooth Fairy arrived seconds after that, flitting above their heads in her usual manic way. Baby Tooth was at her ear, chattering. When she saw the two squaring off, she gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Jack, you didn’t?”

“No!” he protested. “I didn’t! Why does everyone automatically assume that?” 

Bunny, who hadn’t seen Tooth fly in because he was too busy glaring at Jack, was startled by her voice. With a shout, he let his boomerang fly in shock. Since he was already aimed at Jack and Jack had turned his attention from Bunny to Tooth, he didn’t see it coming and Bunny didn’t shout a warning in time. The boomerang smashed into the side of Jack’s head, knocking the light boy off his feet and sending him toppling sidelong. He crashed into a display of finished and already-wrapped toys and sent the entire thing toppling over.

“Jack!” Tooth shrieked, immediately flying to his side and fussing over him. Baby Tooth did as well, buzzing around his head and making him dizzier. 

“Stop,” he moaned, trying to snare Baby Tooth in his fingers. “It hurts…”

“Jack! Jack, are you alright?” Tooth asked, prying open his lips to check his teeth. “What hurts? Are you okay? Did you break anything?”

“Geez, mate, I didn’t really mean to hit you,” Bunny said and it was as close to an apology as anyone would ever get out of him. “Why didn’t you move out of the way like you usually do?”

Sandman arrived to that sight. Bunny, Tooth, and Baby Tooth all fussing over their youngest Guardian in a flurry of motion and movement. There were presents spread haphazardly all over the room. A small question mark appeared over his head, but no one had noticed his silent arrival.

Jack was beginning to feel overwhelmed. He was trapped in a mess of furry arms and iridescent wings. Baby Tooth tugged at a lock of his hair and a spike of pain ran through his skull. Whimpering softly, he lifted a hand to brush her away and inspect the area of agony. His fingers slipped through his hair, meeting something cool and wet and sticky. 

Tooth gasped, Bunny’s chatter falling silent, and Sandy leaned in over their heads from his cloud.

Jack stared at his fingers for a moment, uncomprehending. 

“You’re bleeding,” Tooth whispered, concerned with his silence as he stared. “Jack, are you alright?”

“Blood,” Jack whispered, rubbing his fingers together as if he had never seen it before.

“Blimey,” Bunny muttered, ashamed of himself. “I’m sor—”

But memories that Jack hadn’t had for three hundred years and had stifled down just on the other side of his heart—just waiting to attack him when his guard was lowered—washed over him in one swift and devastating wave. A sort of scream crept between his lips, tearing from him like a physical wound. He looked up from his bloodied hand and was all at once unable to recognize the faces of friends peering down at him. Fear swam through his sharp blue eyes, shadowing them, and Jack reacted like a cornered animal.

“Get back!” he shouted. “Get away from me!” 

“Jack,” Tooth murmured and reached for him.

“No!” he screamed. “Don’t touch me!”

“Jack,” Bunny began, his tone firm.

Jack whirled, his wild eyes narrowing. Bunny had risen to his full height, towering over Jack, and a fresh wave of strange and unadulterated fear swelled over Jack. His skin crawled, the blood on his fingers prickled as it froze, and his skull throbbed where Bunny’s boomerang had torn his thin flesh. 

“No!” he shrieked. “Get back!” And an uncontrollable surge of wintery power flew from Jack’s body. It was like a wall, shoving back Bunny and Tooth. 

It tore through the Easter Bunny like countless knives, freezing him to his very core so that he immediately dropped and hugged himself in an attempt to keep his very soul from freezing. Tooth was blown back by the force, her body smashing into the wall. Her little fairies, even Baby Tooth, had been hurled back with equal force, but were luckily caught in a nearby Christmas tree and not hurt badly. Ice clung to their fragile wings and feathers. Sandy had seen the signs of Jack’s power emerging and managed to protect himself behind an umbrella of dream sand.

Jack doubled over, hands clenched in his hair, panting for breath. Blood ran down his hand where he had pressed his palm over the injury at his temple. 

Cautiously, Bunny uncurled from his protective position and raked his gaze over the room. Sandy was alright, dusting frost off himself, but Tooth was crumpled in a heap against the wall. Her many little fairies were flitting around her head, twittering in concern. Baby Tooth was watching Jack, her little face stricken between concern and horror.

“What the hell, Frostbite?” Bunny growled out. “We were only trying to help you.”

Jack lifted his head, eyes haunted by the blood rolling down his face. “What?” he whispered. 

Sandy floated quickly over to Tooth, touching her back. With a groan, Tooth righted herself, pressing a hand to her head and shivering violently. Her eyes were slightly out of focus, but she wasn’t visibly injured by Jack’s wave of frost. 

“I’m okay,” she whispered. Then, she met Jack’s ice-blue eyes. Her heart skipped a beat when she met his gaze, her very soul prickling with pain for him. “Oh, Jack…”

But Bunny didn’t see the expression on Jack’s face. He was cold and he was unhappy and all his guilt for hurting Jack—however inadvertently—was washed away by Jack’s impulsive wave of frost. “What the hell were you thinking, you bloody moron? You could have really hurt Tooth or one of the little fairies!” he shouted at the boy.

Jack flinched. “I’m sorry—”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, you bloody show horse! Look what you’ve done!” Bunny swept out his hand to encompass the ruined room. Between the presents knocked all over the room, the coating of frost and heaps of snow, and the blood that was smeared on the wall behind Jack’s head, it looked as if a bomb had gone off. “You’re a mess!”

Sandy made a few gestures, but no one was paying attention to him.

Bunny whirled back to Tooth and helped her up.

“Bunny, stop,” she whispered, but her voice was tremulous and weak and only reinforced Bunny’s rage. 

Bunny tightened his grip on her, turning her body as if to protect her from Jack’s line of sight. One of his close friends had been hurt and it suddenly didn’t matter that Jack was a Guardian, just like he was. All he saw in Jack’s wounded face was the childish prankster who had caused him nothing but trouble for the past three hundred years.

“I’m sorry!” Jack tried again, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to! It was… I was…”

Baby Tooth tried to fly to him, but Bunny snatched her out of the air. “Stay away from him,” Bunny snarled out. “He’s dangerous.”

“I’m not!” Jack shouted, but a wave of ice stretched across the floor wildly, surging beyond his control. Bunny slipped, dragging Tooth down with him.

The large doors burst open and North hurried in. “What is going on?” he asked.

Jack whirled to face North, his eyes desperate and wild again. “I didn’t mean to!” he gasped out. “I… Bunny hurt me and I just…”

North was already moving to Tooth, brushing the ice from her wings with his big hands and pulling Bunny to his paws again. “Everyone alright?” he asked.

Tooth nodded. “I’m fine, just a little rattled.”

“What happened?” North asked them again.

“Ask Frostbite over there,” Bunny snarled out.

Jack flinched as if the words had struck him. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to. It was… an accident!”

North glanced at Sandy and the silent spirit nodded in agreement with something unspoken between them. “Alright,” North said gently, gripping Tooth by her elbow and catching Bunny by an ear before he did anything else rash. “Jack, will go sit with children please?”

Jack’s lips parted in protest, his pale eyes going wide with that animal-fear North had seen in his expression earlier in the day.

“I do not wish to leave children alone,” North explained. “Please, Jack?” 

Understanding it was for the good of the chldren and not because North wanted to get rid of him, Jack nodded. Then, before Bunny could make North change his mind and toss Jack out into the snow, the winter child had grabbed up his staff and was gone from the ruined room before anyone even had a chance to blink. A path of frost roses were left in his wake, as if he had gone off to a funeral.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

Don’t forget to comment!


	3. Aftershock and Apologies

ABOUT UPDATES: I think I might start updating on Mondays and Thursdays because I have a lot of these chapters finished!

X X X

Once Jack was gone from the ruined room, Bunny, Tooth, and all the little fairies burst into a fit of talking and arguing. They were talking so fast, voices getting louder and louder as each fought to be heard over the other that North couldn’t make heads or tails of what they were talking about. He glanced at Sandy for help, but the silent spirit merely formed a squawking megaphone in the sand floating over his head, but North had figured that out even without help. 

With a sigh, he sucked in a deep breath and then boomed out, “Be quiet!”

Immediately, Bunny, Tooth, and all the little fairies fell silent. Bunny folded his ears down, wincing in pain as the loud yell tore through his sensitive ears. Tooth and her fairies calmed, but North saw their lips quivering with the desire to speak. Sandman sighed softly in relief.

“Now, one at time, explain,” North said to them both. Bunny opened his mouth, but North interrupted. “Ah, ah, ladies first.”

Tooth smiled in victory, but it was painfully thin.

“Toothy, what happened with Jack?” North prompted.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she began to explain, starting with how she had seen Bunny and Jack already arguing over something when she arrived. After being assured that the Northern lights going out was not one of Jack’s bad pranks, she continued. “I must have frightened Bunny or something—”

“You didn’t frighten me, mate!” Bunny protested.

North silenced him with a wave of his large hand.

“He already had his boomerang out and he threw it accidentally. It hit Jack in the head and cut him here,” Tooth gestured to her own temple. “It was bleeding pretty badly and Jack was really shocked by the blow. He just kind of collapsed and we all went to check on him. I think that’s what Sandy arrived.” 

She glanced at her friend for confirmation and earned a nod.

“Jack touched the injury and when he saw all the blood, he just… froze,” Tooth explained softly, worrying her lower lip. Jack’s bright blood still stained her fingertips, cold and slightly frozen. “I asked him if he was alright and then he just kind of…”

“He lost it,” Bunny put in coldly. “He lost his damn mind.”

“Bunny,” Tooth said firmly and turned back to North. “He did kind of lose it, though,” she admitted but hurried on in her story before North passed judgment. “He looked suddenly… afraid. He looked terrified, North, like he had no idea what was happening. I tried to help him, I really did, but he started screaming. He shouted to keep away from him and put his back against the wall like an injured animal would. And his eyes, North, you should have seen his eyes. I’ve never seen anything like it before,” she whispered. “He looked like a little child, terrified, but also… I don’t know, pleading with me…”

“His eyes?” Bunny asked, confused. He had been too angry, too defensive, to really look at Jack.

North nodded and quickly told Tooth about how he had found Jack wandering the workshop just that morning, spreading a sheet of ice in his wake and just moving as if he had no idea what his surroundings were. He told her about how Jack’s eyes had looked.

“Yes,” she whispered. “They were like an animal’s eyes. So hurt, so fragile, and I swear he must have thought we were going to hurt him.”

North nodded slowly. “Jack has been acting strangely since defeating Pitch,” he said and stroked his beard. 

Silence spread between the four Guardians for a long moment. 

Then Sandy formed a fresh question mark above his head and formed an image of the aurora lights.

“Ah, yes, almost forgot,” North said hurriedly. “I summoned everyone here because there are children in North Pole. Jack found young boy and little girl wandering outside in woods and managed to bring back here.”

“Children?” Tooth gasped.

“Are you sure?” Bunny asked.

North slid him a long-suffering look. “Yes, quite sure. I know what child looks like.”

“But that means…” Tooth whispered.

“Yes,” North agreed.

Bunny looked at Sandy, concern making his whiskers curl.

If Jack had been there, he would have interrupted them with a flurry of ‘What?’s until the others explained their silent exchange, but the young Guardian was currently upstairs watching over the two unconscious children and he wasn’t there to question it. 

For that, North was a little grateful. 

Jack loved children—maybe more than any of them did, even though he wasn’t seen or heard or believed in by them—and he spent far more time with them than they did. The situation would strike Jack harder than any of them and North wasn’t sure that was a good idea with the state Jack’s mind seemed to be in. He was fragile and even a little dangerous, or so it seemed. But they wouldn’t be able to keep the truth of the matter from Jack forever. Eventually, the youth would find out the truth and he would be angry at them for keeping it from him, but North would cross that bridge when they came to it.

…

When the older Guardians entered the infirmary, Jack was seated on the edge of the bed beside the children with his thin staff resting across his knees. He was watching them with a gentle longing look in his eyes—pale eyes that showed no trace of the strange emotion Tooth and North had seen earlier. In fact, they knew Jack had given his life to save his sister’s and they saw that in him now. It was the love of a brother, more pure than even that of a parent.

Occasionally, he lifted a hand to his head as if to scratch at the drying blood at his temple, but always stopped before he touched the wound. Bunny felt a little lump of shame well up in his chest. Jack sometimes still seemed very much a child, very fragile and vulnerable. The blood looked like ink against Jack’s pale hair and skin, standing out terribly. Bunny wanted to apologize right then because Jack turned to look at them and he wouldn’t meet Bunny’s eyes as if the wound had been his fault.

But the moment passed as Sandy and Tooth both moved forward, coming between Bunny and Jack like a veil. North, ever wise, patted Bunny’s shoulder and slid him an understanding look.

Sandy went immediately to the children, casting sweet dreams over their heads. He perched above them for a long while, studying the dreams to make sure they didn’t turn into nightmares. It hadn’t been long since Pitch’s defeat and it was doubtful that the Nightmare King would recover anytime soon, but Sandy was still cautious. Lately, he had sensed something dark lurking in Jack’s usually happy dreams and it troubled him. He didn’t want to risk these children.

Jack had slid away from the bed when his fellow Guardians approached, giving them room to tend the two children, but he remained nearby. Now perched on his staff in a show of distinct balance, he watched over the room with those eyes of his.

After checking on a children, a soft smile pulling her lips, Tooth turned away from the bed and came to Jack’s side. He looked at her and then lowered his eyes shamefully, his toes curling around the arch of his staff. His hand began to wander, seeking out the bloody injury at his temple, but he noticed Bunny watching and stopped himself. 

“Sorry, Tooth,” he whispered and slid down from his staff. He turned his back to her, glanced over his shoulder at Bunny, and then moved further away until he stood at the window. 

Tooth shot Bunny a glare as if he was actively doing something to cause Jack’s behavior. “Jack,” she said firmly. “Come now. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll take care of that injury for you?”

Jack glanced at Bunny again and started to shake his head.

“Go on, mate,” Bunny interrupted. “Let Tooth take care of you. I know… you didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Jack’s expression shifted, filled with a wary hope. Slowly, he nodded and followed Tooth out of the children’s room to the large bathroom down the hall. His footsteps were quiet and Tooth didn’t make a sound as she flitted along beside him. She opened the door, lifted Baby Tooth from her shoulder, and told the small fairy to stay outside while she tended Jack. Baby Tooth protested, but finally obeyed and Tooth closed the bathroom door behind them. Silently, she began to run warm water in the sink and Jack stood nervously beside her, trying not to look at himself in the mirror.

“Tooth, I’m so sorry—”

“Hush,” she said to him and selected a clean washcloth from the stack on the vanity. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t Bunny’s either,” Jack was quick to say.

Tooth sighed. “I know it isn’t, Jack, and it isn’t yours either. He hurt you and you were frightened. Your powers were given to you by Mother Nature and the Man in the Moon to protect you and that’s what they did today. Winter protected you.”

Jack lowered his eyes. “But you… none of you were going to hurt me… I shouldn’t have even been afraid…”

“Then why were you?”

That look flashed through Jack’s eyes again—animalistic, frightened, hurt. “I… don’t know,” he whispered.

Tooth gently hooked her fingers beneath his chin and turned his head so she could see the injury. Bunny’s boomerang had sliced his forehead and temple in a sharp line just above his brow. The cut was deep and long and rather painful-looking. Tenderly, Tooth began to wipe away the dried blood.

Jack shivered—whether it was from the warm water on his cool skin or her touch or the pain of his injury, Tooth didn’t know.

She hushed him, beginning to hum softly as she cleaned up the wound. Soon, Jack relaxed, allowing his eyes to slide closed as Tooth tended him. When his white-knuckled grip on his staff loosened, Tooth felt a wave of warmth stem from her heart. Jack’s trust was thin and frail, but he trusted her enough to let her near in this vulnerable state. 

There was a time Jack Frost wouldn’t have let anyone see his blood or tears, but now he was a Guardian and things were beginning to change.

The first time North met him, Jack’s face had been peppered with bruises and it was only a few days after the Easter Blizzard of ’68. At that time, Jack would barely come off his frozen lake to tell North his name or explain what had happened over the course of that miserable weekend. Jack still watched Bunny from the corner of his eye sometimes, distrustful, waiting for another attack. This fear was only made worse by the fact that Bunny held a grudge against the lonely trickster for ruining his only holiday (which Tooth supposed she understood). But Jack was incredibly wary of his surroundings, waiting for them to tire of him and toss him out into the cold of his life again.

“Finished,” Tooth said softly and rinsed the bloodied cloth in the sink. 

Jack’s eyes slid open and he watched her toss it into the small hamper beneath the vanity before selecting a band-aid from the box and taping it gently over the wound. “Tooth,” he said again, his voice breaking slightly, “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

Sadly, Tooth murmured, “Come here. It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” She opened her arms to the lonely winter child, knowing that he couldn’t resist the prospect of being touched after three hundred years of loneliness.

For a moment, Jack warred with himself, but he finally slipped into Tooth’s embrace and buried his face against her plumage. She stroked his back, resting her cheek on the top of his head, wings beating lightly. His body was cool against hers and he trembled softly like a baby bird that had fallen from the nest. She began to hum again, holding him, running her hand warmly up and down his back. 

“Thank you,” he whispered suddenly, tightening his grip on her. “Thank you.”

…

With Sandy watching over the sleeping children and Tooth tending to Jack, North had a little time and there was something he had been meaning to tell Bunny for a very long time. He turned to Bunny and spoke as quietly as the large Russian was capable. “Bunny,” he said with a firm sadness. 

“I know what you’re going to say, mate,” Bunny said with a wave of his paw. He moved to cross the room, to go to the children’s sides, but North firmly gripped his shoulder and tugged him back.

“And what am I to say?” he asked.

Bunny sighed. “That I should apologize to Jack for accidentally hurting him, that I should tell him it’s not his fault, that I should assure him he’s wanted here and that he’s a Guardian,” he said and it seemed as if he would prattle on forever so North interrupted him.

“No,” he said. “I was going to say you should tell him you forgive him for Blizzard of ’68.”

Bunny opened his mouth to speak, but froze mid-sentence. His green eyes went wide. 

North looked at him knowingly. “We all understand why you are so angry at Jack for that. Easter was ruined and you lost quite a few believers. If not for Sandy’s dreams, you might have been in real trouble, but Jack was so lonely. You didn’t go to see him on his frozen pond. I did.”

Bunny sighed again. “I know, mate. Tooth told me about it.”

“He wouldn’t even come off the ice, Bunny,” North said quietly. “He was that afraid and I must say you did quite a number on him. He was merely lonely, starved for attention.”

Bunny ran his paw over his face. “What would you have done if he had ruined Christmas, North? I think you would have reacted the same as I did.”

“I would have been angry, yes. Probably would have yelled, yes,” the Russian confessed, “but I would never have attacked him. I would never have struck him. He is merely a lonely child. And now, the time has come for you to try to fix what was broken between you and Jack. You can see he knows you still bear grudge.”

Sandy glanced over at the two and nodded when Bunny looked his way.

Bunny sighed heavily. “Alright, mate, when I see him, I’ll apologize to the little frostbite. Okay?”

North nodded, pleased with himself and the outcome of the conversation, and moved towards the slumbering children. “How are they, Sandy?”

The little man gestured to them. ‘Sleeping peacefully.’

“Good,” North said. “Then perhaps we might leave them until tomorrow morning to sleep.”

Sandy nodded, but sprinkled a little more sand over the boy just to be certain. Butterflies, elves, and fairies danced over the little girl’s head, but the boy’s golden dream remained shapeless. Then, the three Guardians exited the room and met Tooth in the hallway. She told them that Jack had gone outside for a while to lay down a nice blanket of snow for the next morning when the children woke. Though North slid Bunny a meaningful look, there was no way he was going out in the snow.

“Let’s get some rest, everyone,” North said.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns? 

Don’t forget to review! (Because I’m depressed and could use the pick-me-up.)


	4. A Morning of Revelations

Not much to report. It’s raining here and I’m still sad.

X X X

When Sophie Bennett awoke the next morning, the first thing she saw was a terrifying mouth full of square teeth under a pointed little hat. She rolled over immediately, pulling the covers up over her head and clutching her rabbit tightly to her chest. She waited a moment, holding her breath, and then peeked out from beneath the thick blankets. The creature was still there, grinning at her in the dim morning light. Then, she screamed for her brother.

Jamie jolted awake sharply, suddenly unable to believe he had fallen asleep. He felt Sophie grab onto him from the side, trembling with terror, and held her close. Then, he reached over towards the outline of the nightstand beside the bed and pulled the cord of the lamp. 

Light flooded the room, illuminated the hoard of pointy-hatted little creatures gathered around the sides of the bed. For a moment, Jamie stared at them, uncomprehending, and they stared right back. Then, one turned to the other, muttered something in a language only it could understand and scurried out of the room. 

(Unknown to the children, Jack had already swept into the room at this time, drawn by Sophie’s screaming. Unseen, he stood quietly nearby, his presence and worry frosting the window.)

A moment later, Santa Claus came into the bedroom. “Hello children,” he said. “I hope the elves didn’t wake you.”

Jamie just stared at him, holding Sophie tight to his chest and uncertain of what to do now. Sophie wriggled free of his arms, peeking up to find the source of the loud voice. There was a large man with a long white beard standing in the center of the room, elves gathered at his feet and big hairy creatures filling the doorway behind him. For a moment, Jamie felt her begin to shiver with fear, but then she went still.

“Santa?” she whispered.

North smiled at her and cautiously approached, kneeling beside the bed to be eyelevel with the children. “Yes, sweetie.”

The girl’s red-rimmed eyes strayed around North to the elves behind him. “Elf,” she said softly.

The boy tightened his arms around her, keeping her close as he suspiciously looked at the large Russian who claimed to be Santa Claus.

“You like elves, yes?” North encouraged. He grabbed one up in his large hand, jingling the bell noisily. “Tell me name and I give you elf to play with.”

The girl’s eyes strayed from North’s face to the elf to the boy holding her and back again. Then, coldly, she said, “Elves not real. Elves are stupid.”

Jack’s heart plummeted. Just like the boy, her fragile confidence and childish belief had been broken apart by something terrible. What had these poor children been through for them to feel this way about themselves and everything around them? 

“Elf is right here in front of you. How you say is not real?” North asked her. As if to prove his point, he shook the elf a little, making the little bell on its head jingle softly. “See?”

The girl glanced at the elf from the corner of her eye, but continued to look away. Her grip on her stuffed rabbit tightened until her knuckles were white. It was strange behavior for such a young child to deny what she could see right in front of her. Her voice and expressions were so cool and adult that Jack didn’t even know where things would go from there, but North was unperturbed by her detached attitude. 

A shiver ran through the boy’s body, but he didn’t yet speak. He appeared uncertain of what to do now, but Jack saw his eyes stray over his sister’s body. The pink band-aid on the little girl’s head shone in the dim lighting as she shook her head fiercely to deny North. 

“Alright,” North said and rose back to his full height. Somehow, he managed to look completely dejected that she had turned down his little present. The elf, on the other hand, was grinning his stupid elf grin that was all teeth and gums. “I guess I just give elf to other little girl.”

The girl’s head jerked forward, her teeth digging into her lower lip childishly. “Wait,” she said suddenly.

“Sophie,” the boy whispered hoarsely, pulling her tighter back against his chest. He looked like he wanted to take her and run far away, but couldn’t find the energy or the courage. This boy was running on emotional empty even after a night of rest—it was painfully clear he needed help, but just wasn’t ready to accept it.

North stopped, half-turning to face her, the little elf still dangling from his big hand. “Yes, little girl?”

“My name is…” she hesitated, her eyes darting.

“Yes?” North encouraged, jingling the elf a little.

“I’m Sophie,” she confessed as if it was a great secret.

“Sophie,” North soothed. “That’s very pretty name.” And with that, he handed over the elf that was shaking his head in a fit of jingling protests. 

The little girl accepted the elf with restrained eagerness, clutching the warm body close along with her rabbit. Maybe it was the warmth that made her keep speaking or maybe she just needed to talk to someone after being lost in the woods. Either way, she continued, “This is Jamie. He’s my brother.” Her small voice stumbled over the word, but both Guardians understood.

“Jamie,” North said gently, crouching down again. “Would you both like hot cocoa and cookies?”

Jamie’s expression went stony with distrust. “We know not to take food from strangers,” he said coldly.

“But I’m no stranger,” North told the boy. “I’m Santa Claus.”

The little girl’s eyes grew wide. “Santa?” she breathed again. “Really?”

“Ho ho ho,” said North, looking like he wished he didn’t have to say that with such gusto. “And I know you’ve been good girl all year, so how about some breakfast? I’m sure Mommy wouldn’t mind if you took cookies from Santa. After all, I’ve been taking cookies from you for years.” North winked at her. “Chocolate chip. Did you help to make?”

Jamie’s eyes widened with shock even as Sophie’s eyes lit up. “Every year, if Mommy lets me,” she said gleefully. “Jamie, let’s go. Please?”

North smiled winningly at the boy, his blue eyes soft, and he held out his hand to him. “So, how about a little breakfast, Jamie?” He caught Jack’s eye and tipped his head towards the yetis and the hallway. They needed to make sure the elves hadn’t eaten all the cookies before they got too excited. “Cocoa and cookies?”

Sophie turned to face her brother, her small face hopeful, but Jamie looked about to deny North when Sophie’s stomach growled woefully. Jamie was obviously hungry too and his hands trembled slightly where he held his sister.

“Yes, please,” he said finally and let North pull back the covers. 

Since both children were still wearing the clothing they had been wearing yesterday, there was no need to change, but North ushered them into the bathroom to brush their teeth (most likely Tooth’s orders). Sophie was still gripping the elf by his jingling hat like a lifeline, but Jamie held her just as tightly.

Jack said to the yetis, “Come on, guys. Let’s go.” He tapped his staff on the ground, the threat of ice making the slow-moving creatures hurry a little bit. 

The little troupe made its way from the infirmary down the hallways Jack had frosted the previous day and finally into the heart of the building. The doors to Santa’s workshop swept open by unseen (by Jack’s) hands and he heard the little girl gasp as she took in the sight of all the toys and yetis and elves working inside. The boy’s expression remained carefully flat, as if something terrible would happen should he reveal his feelings. 

A wave of warm cookie- and fruitcake-scented air washed over them, making it seem like all worries could be fixed by food. Toys floated through the air, swimming like the fantastical creatures that lived in the ocean. Model airplanes dove past and hot air balloons floated up to the ceiling. Glitter from princess dresses sparkled on the warm air. The entire place was filled with a happy feeling that could only be described as Christmas. It was a truly wondrous sight.

For years, Jack had tried to break into this place and now it seemed strange to be allowed to wander the halls as if he belonged there.

“Jack,” North said quietly so the children wouldn’t hear him talking to what they saw as empty air and go racing back outside into the snowy morning. The boy appeared flighty and mistrusting under the best of circumstances, it seemed, and they didn’t want to risk him leaving. “Why don’t you wake the others?”

Jack nodded. Usually, he would have let the wind carry him up to the floor where the spare rooms were, but he didn’t want a sudden gust of freezing Wind to startle the children. So, Jack Frost walked and immediately wondered how humans got around like this all the time. It was so slow! 

He listened to the sound of North comforting Sophie and Jamie, barking at the elves, offering fruitcakes and cookies and gingerbread, and just really rolling out the welcome wagon. 

…

Sandy was already awake when Jack knocked on the door. A tendril of golden sand slipped beneath the door and waved for Jack to enter. After a moment of hesitation, the winter spirit turned the knob and entered the room. Immediately, his breath was stolen.

Though Sandy called the Islands of Sleepy Sands (1) home, he wasn’t there very often. Every night, he was out scouring the globe for children in need of sweet dreams and considering the way the world turned, that night was often endless, just as it was for Tooth. Sandy only returned home to rest if he needed to replenish his reserves. Not everyone got to work one night a year, but that just made their single holiday all the more important. Jack touched his face at the memory of when he had ruined Easter for Bunny, twice now, and Bunny had moved to strike him this second time too. 

In that way, he and Jack both called their rooms at the North Pole home. For Sandy, it appeared to be merely a home away from home. But for Jack, it was the only home he had known besides the empty expanse of his frozen pond.

Sandy smiled, gesturing for Jack to enjoy looking around before they spoke.

Jack, ever the child at heart, couldn’t resist. 

He had always known that Sandy was the oldest and strongest Guardian even if he didn’t look it and he had often known Sandy to fall into a peaceful and exhausted sleep standing up. But the Sandman’s bed was vast and lovely, draped in swathes of sheer golden fabric embroidered with things Jack had never seen in his three hundred years of life. The walls were adorned with golden paintings of the deep night sky, the moon always peeking from a corner like an old friend. But most amazing was how all around Sandy, his golden Dream sand danced and spun itself from one shape to another with a consciousness all its own.

“Are these… children’s dreams?” Jack asked, reaching out to touch a lovely ballerina as she twirled by him in a curtain of tulle and long legs.

Sandy nodded, smiling softly as the touch of Jack’s fingers morphed the sand into a new shape. The wolf lifted its great head to look at Jack, golden eyes shining, before giving him an inquisitive sniff and turning away. A touch of relief mingled with sadness crossed Jack’s face.

Sandy gestured for Jack to come closer, patting the space beside him on the golden bed.

The boy approached eagerly, running his palm over the silken fabric. He smiled at Sandy. “This is beautiful,” he said. “Is your island like this?”

Sandy formed a large image that nearly encompassed the room, revealing the Jack that the Island of Sleepy Sands was swirling like the petals of a flower floating in the middle of a pond, but it was mostly desert. At the vast dunes’ center was a small golden castle and that was Sandy’s true home, but while he couldn’t be there, this was close enough for him. The moment he relinquished his control of the sand, it once again shifted into the beautiful smaller images of countless children’s dreams.

“That’s amazing,” Jack murmured.

Sandy nodded.

“Anyway, North told me to wake everyone up. The children are awake,” Jack explained. “Their names are Jamie and Sophie.”

Sandy lifted a hand for silence and Jack quieted, looking at his fellow Guardian.

Sandy took a small breath to steel himself for what he was about to ask. In the night, Jack had been dreaming and it hadn’t been his normal dreams for family and kindness and belief. The dream had grown dark and twisted, just on the cusp of being a true nightmare. Though Sandy hadn’t been able to make out much through the swirling darkness of Jack’s frozen consciousness, the few things he had seen clearly troubled him. Jack’s desire to be embraced and touched crumbled into a fear of being touch. He wished for a bed all to himself, more food he didn’t have to give up, for someone to stop… 

And then, Sophie’s shrill scream hand torn through the North Pole. Jack woke faster than any of the Guardians—in fact, none of the other Guardians had heard the little girl’s quiet scream. But the winter spirit was immediately awake and hurrying to the children’s rooms to check on them even if they could not see him. And fear followed Jack, the vestiges of his dream clinging to him like shadows. Why had he been afraid? Why had his powers reacted so violently to protect him the day before, blasting away Tooth and Bunny? What was wrong?

The Sandman turned to Jack and phrased his question carefully, keeping it open to interpretation. ‘How have your dreams been lately?’

Jack’s face went pale, his fingers curling around his staff. “Fine,” he said finally. “Why?”

Sandy rolled his shoulders. ‘Just curious,’ he gestured in a slew of shapes. ‘You know, you can always talk to me if you need too. I’m a good listener.’

Jack’s lips quirked into a smile. “I know you are. Thanks Sandy.”

Sandy patted the boy’s narrow thigh, eyeing the way Jack didn’t flinch or otherwise show fear of touch. In fact, the boy leaned into it, soaking it up, and Sandy wondered if he had been concerned over nothing. Maybe Jack was just worried that Bunny would thrash him for hurting Tooth.

Jack floated to his feet, the wind carrying him like a leaf. “Well, I’d better wake the others. You should meet North downstairs.”

Sandy nodded and flashed Jack a thumbs-up.

…

It didn’t take Jack long to wake the others. 

He rapped smartly on Bunny’s door and then left when he heard the Pooka’s heavy footsteps crossing to the threshold. He didn’t want to give Bunny a chance to give him a piece of his mind. The injury on his forehead still ached and he wasn’t keen on repeating any of what had happened previous Easters.

Tooth was already awake and Jack met up with her in the hall outside her bedroom. He accepted a flurry of tiny fairy kisses and a long embrace from Tooth before explaining to her that the children were awake and that North wanted to see everyone downstairs.

Then, Jack retrieved North from the fireside where he had showered the children in cocoa and cookies and enough elves to entertain Sophie for an eternity. The Guardians gathered in the other room, within earshot should something happen, but not so close that Jamie would be able to hear them.

North turned to Jack. “Will you go sit with children, Jack?”

The winter spirit’s eyes widened and he glanced quickly from Bunny to Sandy to Tooth and back to North. “Why?” he asked and North heard the pain in his question. Why would North send him away? Were they sending him away because they didn’t think he could help? Because he had screwed up so many times before? Because he wasn’t really a Guardian and they didn’t want him around?

“I do not want to leave children alone,” North explained, laying his big hand on Jack’s shoulder. “But if they are alone, they might say something of use to elves. I’d like to know if such thing happens. They are unable to see you, Jack.”

Relief slid through Jack’s shoulders and he nodded. With a gust of cool North Wind, the boy was gone and the four older Guardians were alone. 

Once Jack left to watch over the children, it was like the floodgates poured open. Suddenly, everyone was talking at once—each more concerned than the other, accents slurring together—and Sandy had the sudden feeling that nothing was going to get done.

He held up his hand for silence, but when they ignored him as they usually did, he formed three little sandy hands and reached out to slap them each. Silence fell quickly, each Guardian looking at him stunned. Sandy had never used his creations like that, but he wasn’t feeling patient enough to get their attention the usual way. (Plus, half the elf population of the North Pole was in the other room with Sophie and there was no jingling hat nearby to shake.) 

Sandy carefully phrased his question. ‘What were they to do with Sophie and Jamie?’

“Don’t know,” North said and rubbed his beard. “Haven’t been children in North Pole for five hundred years.”

“When was the last time this actually happened, mate?” Bunny asked.

“Yes, do we have records or anything?” Tooth added, quickly following his train of thought. 

Bunny nodded. “Maybe in the Guardian Handbook. Has anyone read that thing from cover to cover?”

Tooth shook her head, but North slowly nodded, his expression pensive.

North considered this a moment. Then, he finally said, “I think so, yes. They would be in final chapter.” The Russian got to his feet and hustled out of the room. Several minutes later, he returned with a thick leather-bound volume inscribed with an embossed letter G on the front and back covers. He wiped the dust off, sat down, and opened the large volume in his lap. 

Baby Tooth fluttered over to North, chirping as she twittered near his ear. North ran his finger down the page, his wondrous blue eyes skimming the words faster than the little Tooth Fairy could move. He turned the page, reading perhaps even more swiftly. Baby Tooth, bored, flew off to join Jack in his vigil with the children. Then, with a great sigh, he closed the volume.

“Well, mate?” Bunny asked.

“What’s it say?” Tooth put in.

“Not very much,” North said quietly. “It says only that when child is in true danger and needs help that no one else will give, child will be transported to the Guardian most able to help them. That Guardian will know what to do to help child.”

“Which is you,” Bunny said. “So what do we do?”

North shook his head, his expression growing distant and pained. “Not me,” was all he said.

“Then, who?” Bunny asked.

Sandman’s eyes widened, but before he could even form an image, Tooth spoke.

“Jack,” she breathed.

X X X

(1) The Island of Sleepy Sands is actually where Sandy lives. Sandy was once a shooting star that fell to earth and when the star landed, it became this island and the Man in the Moon created Sandy to bring sweet dreams to the children of the world.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Please review to lift my depression.


	5. A Day for Children

I’m beat. I was at work all day yesterday…

X X X

When the other Guardians entered the small area of the workshop that North had set up for the two children, they found quite an interesting sight. Sophie was sitting in front of the fire, contentedly eating cookies and sipping her cocoa and playing with the elves. Now that they weren’t being yanked about by their jingling hats, the elves were happy to play with her and more than a little curious about the young human’s presence in the North Pole. One of the female yetis was nearby, mothering over Sophie gently.

From a small distance, Jack watched over her. He was balanced in that way only he was capable of. His staff was standing perfectly upright while Jack crouched on the hooked top of the crook, his toes curled over it in a monkeylike fashion. He watched her closely, his blue eyes shadowed with more longing than usual. It wasn’t just the longing of a spirit who wished to be believed in and seen or heard. It was the longing of someone who had lost something precious.

Jamie was sitting beside his sister, his cold hands wrapped around his mug of cocoa. His eyes were shadowed, haunted, by the flickering firelight. A few elves had gathered at his sides, chattering curiously, and the boy didn’t push them away but he didn’t welcome them either. He merely sat before the warmth of the fire, watching everything closely with his too-adult eyes. Occasionally, he glanced behind himself as if sensing Jack’s presence even if he could not see the winter spirit.

Jack and Jamie both turned to look at the Guardians when they heard them enter the room. Some blood had soaked through the bandage over the gash at Jack’s temple and Tooth had done a good job patching Jack up, but Bunny's boomerangs were meant for hard battle. It looked rather painful, but Jack seemed unaware of the pain or else he was hiding it well. He rotated his lean body on the tip of his staff, the stick swaying carefully beneath him. 

Bunny felt a moment of slight concern for the boy—what if he fell off that thing and broke his neck or that flimsy stick just shattered beneath his scant weight? But Jack remained upright on his perch and the stick ceased its moving when he did. Bunny wondered how much of that little stunt was some sort of magic and how much of it was Jack’s actual balance. It didn’t seem possible for anyone to do that, yet there was Jack, denying all laws of physics.

North gestured for Jack to come over and the boy did, his footsteps silent and leaving no frost behind. Since Jamie was watching them all so closely, they ducked back out of the warm room so it wouldn’t look like they were crazy people talking to thin air when they were really talking to Jack.

“We need to get their story out of them,” North explained to Jack.

“Well, don’t look at me,” Jack said, holding his staff close against his side. He eyed Bunny, gauged his friend’s lingering anger, and took a small step back. “I’m invisible, remember?”

North clapped Jack on the shoulder, his blue eyes sorrowful.

“We remember, Jack,” Tooth said gently, fluttering over and landing beside him. 

Jack glanced at her and seemed torn between wanting to ask her if she was alright and wanting to back away from her just as he had shied from Bunny. Tooth tried to touch his arm, but he took a few steps back, keeping out of range. Baby Tooth chirped softly, sadly, but Jack still did not allow Tooth to touch him—at least not now that Bunny was watching him so closely.

“Jack,” she whispered and shot a look at Bunny. “I thought we talked about this. I know you didn’t mean to—”

“But I did,” he hissed out. His voice was cold and hard, but so full of shame and pain that it broke Tooth’s heart. “Bunny was right about me. I am… dangerous and it doesn’t matter if I apologize… I still… hurt you, Tooth. I hurt you.”

“Jack,” Tooth whispered, her amethyst eyes welling with tears. “Please, Jack…”

But he still pulled away from her touch. “Can’t you help Sophie and Jamie, guys?” Jack said finally. “I’m sure their family is…” he trailed off, thinking of what he had heard Jamie saying in the woods. His own memories rushed at him again, biting into his heart, but he forced them back. He swallowed the lump in his throat and hoped they hadn’t noticed his strange reaction.

They had, but it looked as if they assumed he was merely missing his own recently-remembered family. With a small nod, North ushered the others towards Sophie and Jamie. Bunny hesitated, looking as if there was something he wanted to say to Jack, but the boy turned away and pretended he didn’t notice. North called softly for Bunny and the Guardians surrounded the children as North began introducing them one by one. Jack hung back, out of sight and out of mind.

Sophie’s focus was drawn immediately to Tooth and her small brightly-colored fairies so the others allowed Tooth to take over the conversation and try to get the little girl talking. “You’re not like Peter Pan’s fairies, are you?” Sophie asked.

“What do you mean, sweetie?” Tooth asked, her wings fluttering nervously.

“If I say I don’t believe, will you die?” she whispered in that too-adult voice of hers.

“Why don’t you believe, Sophie?” Tooth asked.

Sophie lowered her eyes, studying her hands. “Because… fairies are stupid…”

Tooth’s heart skipped a beat and she quickly glanced at North. “But, honey, I’m right here,” she said gently. “And I want to help you. Why don’t you tell me what happened to you yesterday?” 

Sophie tugged at the sleeves of her shirt. “Nothing,” she said softly and pressed close to her brother’s side. Jamie set down his mug to pull her close, his eyes harsh and icy. It was strange for such young children to show such an extreme lack of trust in childhood icons. Especially since they could both see them and therefore believed.

“There must have been something,” Tooth encouraged, sliding her gaze across both children. “You went on a wild ride, I heard,” she said to Jamie.

“Sledding without a sled is dangerous,” Jamie said firmly. “And with a sled, sledding is stupid.”

“You got to play with the elves and yetis, didn’t you?” Tooth tried desperately, turning back to Sophie.

Sophie glanced at the little jingling creatures at her knees. “Elves are stupid,” she whispered. Her little voice cracked. “Grow up,” she choked out.

Jack’s heart pounded against his ribs, banging like something that wanted to get out, and he reminded his heart that he was already dead and to just be quiet, but it refused. Just moments before, he had seen Sophie smiling and laughing, cuddling the elves and talking to the silent yetis and acting like a normal child. Now, a shadow had fallen across her. He had seen this before… he knew what it was.

“Sophie,” Tooth began softly, but the little girl turned away.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you anymore,” Jamie interrupted firmly. “Thank you for helping us, but we should be going. We need to get home or Dad will be angry.”

“But Daddy isn’t here right now,” Tooth said gently. “Don’t you want to stay?”

Sophie shook her head, her lips quivering. “No, Daddy will know we were bad.” She got to her feet and brushed herself off, clinging to Jamie’s hand. “Can I have my coat back, please?” she asked North.

“This is the North Pole, Sophie,” North said. “It’s not safe for children to be outside here.”

Sophie began to shake her head. 

Jamie’s eyes narrowed coldly and he stepped forward to be between his sister and North. “We’ll manage,” he said icily.

“I don’t think your parents would want you out in this weather, mate. Jack Frost whipped up a real storm,” Bunny added.

Jack flinched as if Bunny had reached out and slapped him, but Jamie considered the weather outside for a long moment before nodding. It was dangerously cold outside and the snow was so deep, far too deep for him to trudge through and even deeper for Sophie. If he took Sophie out into this weather again, only God knew what would happen. And he was her older brother. He was supposed to protect her.

“How about I show you my sleigh?” North offered. 

Sophie nodded eagerly and Jamie allowed Sophie to accept North’s large hand. He let them lead her away from the fire with a procession of curious elves at her heels, holding her stuffed rabbit tightly. She was all smiles, happiness, the joy of childhood bright in her eyes. Jamie followed closely, watching over his sister. Occasionally, he rubbed at his arms as if chilled and pulled the sleeves of his shirt down further over his wrists.

Bunny followed just behind the long line of jingling elves, trying to match his pace with Jack, but the wintery child just kept hanging back further and further until Bunny had to give up or risk more of Jamie’s suspicion. The children were more important right now. Jack’s apology and forgiveness could wait, couldn’t it?

…

A few hours later, Tooth and Sandy had to leave, but both promised to return before dark. Unlike Bunny and North, they couldn’t put their jobs on hold just because Guardian duties called. They had to learn to juggle both so that children would continue to believe. 

That belief was more vital than even the Guardians themselves. Without belief, they would disappear and usually the four icons of childhood would be fine for a few days without actively instilling that belief, there was Jack to worry about. He was a new Guardian with very few believers. Being an elemental spirit, they didn’t think he would disappear altogether because winter existed whether everyone believed in it or not, but they didn’t want to risk losing Jack due to his lack of believers.

Tooth was loath to leave Jack, but she didn’t have a choice. Instead, she left Baby Tooth behind with him, hugged him tightly, and flew after Sandy out the nearest window. Jack watched her leave sadly, leaning his cheek into Baby Tooth where she perched on his shoulder. 

That left North, Bunny, and invisible Jack to care for the children.

North was tireless despite his appearance in age. He showed Sophie the underground garage where his sleigh was kept, explaining to her that how exactly Santa’s sleigh flew was based on the belief of little girls like her. He brought her to the reindeer stables and lifted her up so she could pet the large creatures. He brought her to the kitchens to bake cookies with the elves and yetis. He let her test out the princess dolls and castles some of the yetis were crafting. 

The little girl absorbed all of these sights with obvious wonder and Jack could tell her belief was vitalizing North. She clutched her stuffed rabbit ever closer as they continued their tour through the pole.

Keeping up with North, Bunny’s soft spot for children became more and more evident as he watched Sophie adoringly. He produced eggs from his bandolier and painted them in beautiful colors and images. He even let Sophie paint one. Then, he set the little goodies on the floor and let Sophie chase them around in a state of delight. He helped her make chocolates and let her decorate them however she wanted. He carried her on his back, hopping quickly down the halls. 

Sophie’s laugh grew brighter and happier as the day went on. “Easter Bunny, hop, hop, hop!” she cheered, laughing and smiling. 

Only Jamie hung back warily, but Jack saw a faint smile pulling at the young boy’s lips as he watched his sister enjoying herself to the fullest. The little girl laughed as if she was making up for lost time and the bandage on her forehead gleamed pink in the candied tinsel lights of North’s many trees. Jamie’s expression darkened each time he saw that wound and Jack swept closer to the boy. Even though he was invisible to Jamie, he couldn’t help but feel that his mere presence might help the little boy feel at least a bit better.

Jamie occasionally glanced over his shoulder, his eyes going through Jack each time, but Jack felt that Jamie knew someone was there. For Jack, that was enough.

As the day drew to a close, North led the children back to the large fireplace and massive sofa that served as the living room. He settled the tired children in with warm milk and some little finger sandwiches to serve as dinner. Then, he directed the yetis to bring a television in from the workshop and hook it up to occupy the children while he had a word with the Man in the Moon. (Even though Manny rarely answered, North still found it comforting to talk to his old friend.)

This time, Bunny remained with the children and Jack headed outside so that Bunny wouldn’t have a chance to scold him.

…

North stood before the massive globe, looking at the countless winking lights of happy children who believed. He saw two tiny lights glimmering on the North Pole and smiled sadly. Then, he turned towards the large skylight and saw Manny peeking through it as if he had known North wanted to talk. 

“Hello, old friend,” he murmured. “Won’t you tell me why this is happening again?”

The Man in the Moon did not answer, but North felt as if the moonlight shining down on him brightened. At least it felt like the Moon was listening even if he didn’t offer any advice.

“Did you really send those children to Jack, Manny?” North asked quietly. “If you did, why?”

The memory of Jack’s sad tormented eyes returned to North, exploding like a bright light. The winter sprite seemed so fragile lately, lost and frightened, very much like those children.

“Because Jack lost his family?” North asked. “Because he misses his sister?”

The Moon hung silently in the sky.

“Or because he is like them? Because he is lost child?”

But Manny did not answer in any way. 

Down the hall, North heard Tooth call out, “We’re back!”

He turned, shouting, “I am in here. Children and Bunny are downstairs. Jack is outside,” and then turned back to the Moon. But the moment had passed. The bright moonlight had faded to a normal glow and the night beyond had darkened into ink.

He spotted Jack gliding through the night, illuminated by the moon, and North wondered if Jack was trying to get answers from the Man in the Moon as well. If Jack had known that the children had been sent to him or that they were here because they needed help no one would offer, he might have, but Jack was still in the dark about both of these facts. Most likely, Jack was just enjoying the cool freedom of night before returning to the heated interior of the workshop.

…

Bunny was seated on the couch beside the children, enjoying the heat of the fire and the calm after such a raucous day. Occasionally, he saw Jack swoop by the window outside, showering perfect pale snowflakes down on the North Pole. 

Sandy and Tooth entered the living room and Tooth smiled beautifully when she saw that Sophie beginning to doze between her brother and Bunny. She hugged her stuffed rabbit closer, smiling toothily when she saw the Tooth Fairy.

“Pretty,” Sophie whispered.

Tooth stroked the little girl’s pale hair back from her face, eyeing the Barbie band-aid on the little girl’s forehead. “Hello, Sophie,” she said gently. “Did you have a nice day?”

Sophie nodded before nestling down against Jamie’s side sleepily.

“Hello, Jamie,” Tooth said sweetly, kindly, like a mother.

“Hi,” was all the boy said.

“It’s getting late,” Bunny put in quietly.

“We should get these two off to bed,” Tooth agreed. “Aren’t you tired?”

Sophie nodded slowly, but Jamie didn’t concede his exhaustion. Instead, he gathered Sophie up in his arms and rose to his feet. 

North entered the room. “Bedtime already?” he asked.

Tooth nodded. 

Together, the group headed upstairs. Jack must have been watching through the workshops many windows because he met them in the upstairs hall, having slipped in through an open window to join them. He fell in beside Tooth, smiling thinly when she leaned in to ask him how the day had gone. 

Sandman took over once the small procession reached one of North’s spare rooms. (North had two, just for occasions like this, but he hadn’t needed to use one in more than five hundred years.) Bunny started a fire in the grate, stacking it with logs to warm the room, and Jack moved silently to the window. He frosted it over and then drew pictures with the tip of his finger, but Sophie didn’t notice through the sleep tugging at her. Jamie did, eyeing the window panes closely, but unable to see who had drawn on them. Tooth tucked the little girl into the large bed and North smoothed out the covers. Then, with a flick of his wrist, Sandy put the girl to sleep. Golden dreams danced over her head.

The bed was more than large enough to accommodate Jamie too, but the boy didn’t move towards the bed. “Thanks,” he said in that cold adult voice. “You’ve done enough.”

“We could do same for you,” North offered the boy. “Wouldn’t you like some nice dreams?”

“You’ve done enough,” Jamie said firmly. “Thank you.” His eyes were hard but his expression was as brittle as ice. 

Jack felt that if any of his fellow Guardians tried to push Jamie further, the boy would either break or shut down. He moved forward, putting his hand on North’s elbow and shaking his head. He tipped his chin towards the door, not wanting his friends to forget that he was invisible and try to speak to him in front of Jamie.

Sandy nodded and gave his friends a silent thumbs-up.

“Very well,” North said to Jamie. “If you need anything, will you ask?”

The boy nodded, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to leave his sister if his life depended on it and he didn’t trust them at all. He followed them to the door and closed it tightly behind them. Then, he stood patiently on the other side, ear pressed to the door, trying to hear what their apparent rescuers wanted. Jamie had no trust for adults, even Santa and the Easter Bunny.

Bunny lifted a paw and pressed his finger to his lips for silence. Then, he gestured for everyone to follow him down the hallway and out of the boy’s earshot. Then, he said, “Okay, he shouldn’t be able to hear us now.”

“Was he listening?” North asked.

Bunny nodded. “I didn’t hear him walk away from the door.”

“Should someone watch over them tonight?” Tooth asked her comrades. 

“It’s probably a good idea, mate,” Bunny said. “I will—”

“I will,” Jack interrupted softly. “They can’t see me and if Jamie wakes up to find a six-foot-tall kangaroo leaning over them, he’ll probably… freak out.”

“He has point,” North said before Bunny could work himself up over the whole kangaroo thing.

Bunny sighed. “Fine, but if you screw up, mate—” he cut himself off both because Jack was flinching again, his pale face shamed, and Baby Tooth was digging her sharp beak into him. “Just be careful,” Bunny said finally. “And call us if anything changes.”

Jack nodded and watched as North, Tooth, and Bunny all hurried off down the hallway. Sandy hung back, sensing—as always—Jack’s need before the boy even voiced it. A small question mark appeared over Sandy’s head and he gently patted Jack’s knee.

“Bunny’s right. I am… dangerous… I screwed up. I hurt Tooth, Sandy,” Jack whispered. “I don’t even know what happened… I was…” He hesitated and Sandman saw how very much a child this boy still was. “I was… I was scared…”

Sandy formed an image of Tooth trying to touch Jack.

“I know she forgives me, but that’s… that’s not it… Ever since I got my memories back, I’ve been—”

They approached the door to the children’s room and Jack heard a strange sound inside. They both fell silent, listening. It sounded like Jamie was talking to Sophie in her sleep, but they couldn’t make out what the boy said. Jack, grateful for the change, turned his attention to the children.

“We’ll help them, right Sandy?” Jack whispered.

The Sandman nodded and sighed silently. Jack was finished talking and he had drawn himself back into the safety of his own mind, hiding from his friends. Though Sandy tugged at Jack’s pants, encouraging him to continue talking, the youth refused. 

“You should go downstairs with the others. I’ll watch over them,” Jack assured Sandy. His blue eyes slid across the surface of the closed door. He heard Sophie murmur softly in her dreams, heard Jamie sooth her gently. That soft longing entered Jack’s expression again, sad and faint in the depths of this eyes, but Sandy saw it. “I’ll protect them,” Jack whispered.

And what could Sandy do to argue with him? Even if Jack had accidentally hurt Tooth, he would sooner tear his own body to pieces before he’d hurt any child. It was for that selflessness that the Man in the Moon had given him a new life and made him a Guardian. So, the golden spirit floated down the hallways, leaving Jack alone to watch over the children. After all, he was certain his fellow Guardians wanted to talk to him about both the troubled winter spirit and the young children that had wandered into the Pole. 

…

When Sandy rejoined Tooth, North, and Bunny in the small library downstairs, they were all sipping hot chocolate and trying to pretend they weren’t concerned. But the moment Sandy entered the room and raised a small image of a neatly made bed with a snowflake watching over it, the floodgates once again opened but they quieted when Sandy lifted a hand.

Baby Tooth listened to the adults’ conversation with half an ear. This was boring and she would much rather be with Jack. She told Tooth as much and flew off to join the winter sprite, but the door to the children’s room was closed and Tooth Fairies could pass through windows but not doors. Inside, she heard the bells on the elves hats jingle quietly.

Frustrated, the little fairy flew to the nearest window and looked out, debating on flying through the frigid night air so she could reach Jack’s side. But the memory of the icy blast of Jack’s uncontrolled powers made her think twice. She had no desire to feel anything that cold ever again. 

Instead, she returned to the door and hovered outside, twittering as loud as she could in the hope that Jack would hear her and let her in. For a while, it was silent on the other side of the door, as if Jack had fallen asleep, but she could hear the thin crackle of frost on glass that told her Jack was alert.

Baby Tooth twittered a little louder, hoping that Jack would hear her but she wouldn’t wake the children. Suddenly, she heard a soft sound—someone whimpered quietly, a soft protest, a muted cry. Baby Tooth perched on the doorknob, silencing her wings, listening closer. Again, she heard the sound.

It was a cry, an apology, a plea…

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

Please leave comments!


	6. Nightmares and Dreams

So guess what, everyone? I got a small promotion at work! (It’s kind of been a position I’ve always had, but now it’s going down on paper!) I’m so excited! And busy!

X X X

The nights in the North Pole were deep and long, but not dark. Between the brightness of the moon and stars and the naturally-occurring Aurora Borealis, it looked like a candied dream beyond the glass of the windows. The freshly-fallen snow glittered beneath those lights and Jack gazed at the beauty contentedly. Somewhere in the unspoiled wilderness, he heard the distant cry of a wolf. Behind him, the elves moved as quietly as possible, bells jingling very very softly.

Jack had waited until the room had gone silent and he was sure Jamie had fallen asleep before daring to open the door. Now, invisible to the children, he perched in the windowsill. He watched over them and studied the night beyond the glass in silence.

Jamie stirred in his sleep suddenly, moaning softly with a whimpered out, “No… please…” The golden dream Sandy had sent up as soon as the boy fell asleep shuddered and collapsed just as suddenly, more fragile than any house of cards.

Jack had been sitting in the window seat, absently drawing in the frost he created and watching over the night, but now he turned quickly. Concern was a stone in Jack’s chest, heavy and smothering.

Jamie rolled beneath the covers, practically thrashing. His thin face twisted with what could only be fear and pain. “No, Daddy, don’t…” he begged, whimpering softly.

Jack let the wind blow at his back, chilling the room, in his haste to reach the boy’s side. His feet barely touched the braided rug, but frost spread beneath his toes with his concern. At their bedside, he crouched, uncertain. He knew he could touch children as they slept, but would Jamie be more frightened by cool phantom hands?

When Jamie cried out again, a tear sliding down his pale cheek, Jack suddenly didn’t care if there would be consequences to his actions. He gently tugged the young boy into his arms, brushing his dark hair out of his face and tucking the strands back.

“Shh,” he whispered to Jamie. “It’s alright. You’re not alone. I’m here, I’m here.” 

He whimpered again, trembling in Jack’s arms. “I’m sorry, Daddy… I’m sorry, Mommy… Please, don’t…”

Jack stroked his hair, rocking the boy tenderly in his embrace. “It’s okay, Jamie,” he whispered and wondered if his voice was even penetrating the nightmare. “Jamie, wake up. It’s alright. It’s just a bad dream.”

But the child continued to cry softly, his fingers knotting in the blankets and Jack’s shirt. “It hurts,” he whispered. “Please stop… it hurts…”

Jack’s heart shattered like an icicle that fell from the eave of a too-high roof. “Hey, Jamie, wake up. It’s okay,” he said gently. “You’re safe now. No one can hurt you anymore. I won’t let them, Jamie.”

The elves began to gather at Jack’s bare feet where they hung over the edge of the large bed, spreading frost. They looked up at him with their concerned elf eyes, hats jingling nervously. It reminded him too much of when they held a funeral for Sandman and the stone of worry lodged in his throat. 

“Go get the others, okay?” Jack said to the elves, cradling Jamie closer to his chest. 

In their scramble to heed him, to help this young child, they crashed into each other—bells jingling—and made a little too much noise, but the commotion did not rouse Jamie or Sophie. The boy continued to toss in tormented sleep, even as the elves cursed and jabbered at each other. They pulled the door open and hurried out into the hall, allowing Baby Tooth inside the room. She flew up to Jack quickly, chattering.

“Hush, Baby Tooth,” Jack said to her. 

The little fairy settled down on his shoulder, tucking herself against his cheek, and watching quietly as Jack did what his silent voice and hands could do to comfort the child in his arms.

Jamie whimpered again, “No, please… that hurts, Daddy… Mommy, please… don’t…” 

He pressed his face into the cool bare flesh of Jack’s throat, whispering more apologies and pleas, and shivered. For a moment, Jack feared that the cool of his body was seeping into the boy and thought about laying him back against the pillows, but Jamie knotted his fingers in Jack’s sweater and only nestled closer into his phantom embrace. 

Jack hushed him, rubbing Jamie’s back gently. The boy murmured softly, but began to settle down and relax. He still clung to Jack though, as unrelenting as any frightened child would desperately hold onto safety and shelter. Jack whispered to him, his throat vibrating softly, and gently pulled his hands from his jacket to lay him back against the pillows of the big bed. Jamie protested softly, murmuring again, but curled contentedly beneath the blankets that Jack smoothed over him. He sighed softly, relieved, and Baby Tooth chirruped softly in question.

Then, the doorway was suddenly filled with Guardians, yetis, and elves.

Jack pressed a finger quickly to his lips and gestured for them to back as silently as possible out the doorway. This, though, was easier said than done. (Well, it was difficult for everyone except Sandy who had already shuffled himself out of the way.) Tooth fluttered backwards with near silence, but she did so right into Bunnymund. 

“Watch it, mate,” he whispered hoarsely. 

She shushed him just as North turned and said in his best stage whisper, “Quiet!”

Then, an elf got underfoot and would have been stepped on by North or Bunny if he hadn’t began shouting and jingling at the top of his little lungs. North glowered down at the elf, just barely missing stepping on him. His foot landed on the hardwood floor rather loudly, more like a stomp, and Jack was glad there hadn’t been an elf underneath.

“Why are you always under boot?” North hissed at them.

They responded with a lot of jabbering elf chatter, shaking little fists and jingling their bells even louder.

“Shh!” Tooth and Bunny whispered to them.

But it was already too late. With a stifled cry, Jamie lurched up in bed, clutching the covers to his chest. Jack moved to his side quickly, wanting to comfort him, but as he moved to touch the boy, he felt his eyes go right through his body and stopped short. Sadly, Sandy touched Jack’s shoulder and then moved to Jamie’s side with a small smile.

“Sandman,” Jamie whispered softly, his voice thin and childlike. “I… I had a bad dream…”

Sandy nodded, sitting down beside the boy.

Abruptly, Jamie seemed to realize that he was on the verge of talking about something secret. “I should go back to sleep,” he said in that very adult voice of his. “It’s important to get eight hours each night.” But he winced as he spoke. It was clear that he was reluctant to go back into the world of dreams and nightmares, even if Sandy could promise him sweet dreams. Jamie was afraid.

Jack worked to swallow the knot in his throat, but couldn’t. He almost asked Sandy not to put him back to sleep, but the words froze. 

But Sandy understood Jamie’s fear almost as well as Jack did. He made an elaborate show of crafting a beautiful golden dream out of sand until Jamie quirked a little smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then, he handed it to him and the boy fell swiftly asleep. Jack adjusted the covers, giving Sandy a weak but grateful smile. Sandy patted Jack’s hand and the two of them turned back to their fellow Guardians. 

Tooth, North, and Bunny all looked ready to shout and argue—each blaming the other for waking Jamie up. 

Sandy glanced at Jack, sand swirling out of his ears to show frustration in a way that made Jack smile faintly. Then, he turned to the others and shook his finger at them sternly. Silently, Jack and Sandy ushered them out of the bedroom, leaving several elves to guard the siblings with the door cracked open slightly, just in case. The small group moved a little further down the hallway until they were safely out of earshot of the sleeping children, but not far enough away that the elves wouldn’t be able to call for them if Jamie needed something.

“Well, Jack, did he say anything?” Tooth asked.

“What was dream about?” North put in.

“What happened, mate?” Bunny demanded.

Sandy put himself between Jack and the others, giving them stern looks when their questions threatened to overwhelm Jack. He knew Jack wouldn’t hurt them, but he didn’t want to take the chance of another accident happening—not when Jack seemed so close to the edge of something, so fragile. Then, he turned, gave Jack a thin smile, and raised a question mark over his head.

Jack let out a small breath of relief. “First, tell me what you found out—you keep sending me out of the room every time you talk about it. North said a child hasn’t been in the North Pole for over five hundred years. Has this happened before?”

Tooth gnawed the corner of her mouth with her perfect teeth. “Well, Jack, you see…”

“There is clause in Guardian Handbook,” North began. “It says that if child should ever need help and no one will provide it, that child will be transported to Guardian most able to help them. It has only happened a few times since creation of Guardians by Man in Moon.”

Jack curled his fingers around his staff, relieved despite himself. “Then, the Man in the Moon was bringing them to you, right, North?”

North hesitated. “Well…”

“Right?” Jack asked, his blue eyes sliding to Tooth and then Sandy and then Bunny. “Right?” Still, no one answered him. They each had a different expression on their concerned faces. “Right?” Jack whispered one final time.

“I don’t see how this guy is going to help Jamie and Sophie,” Bunny interrupted coldly. “He makes a mess of everything. I’m not willing to let the fate of an innocent child rest in his hands. I mean, what if he screws it up again? This is not a situation where we have room for that.”

“Bunny!” Tooth gasped, her amethyst eyes darting apologetically from Jack to Bunny and then to North. “How could you say that?”

“This guy hasn’t been believed in in three hundred years,” Bunny continued. “How are we supposed to believe that he’s the best person to help these kids?”

“Because Man in Moon chose him,” North said firmly. “He is Guardian.”

Jack didn’t realize he had taken several steps back until he felt the wall rise up against his back. He turned to Sandy who was staring at Jack with wide concerned eyes. “Me?” he whispered. “The Man in the Moon sent them to me? He thinks I can help them?”

Sandy nodded slowly. 

“But… but I—” The memories surged over Jack, smothering him painfully. Tears burned in his eyes and throat, choking him. He felt his heart beating raggedly in his chest, pounding like it wanted to escape his body, and he didn’t blame it. He lifted his arms around himself, hugging his body tightly as if to keep it together. Jack gasped, a wordless sound of pain and shock. His staff clattered to the ground noisily, bouncing down on the head of a nearby elf. “I… I—”

Sandy whacked at North’s leg until the large man stopped arguing with Bunny and turned to look at Jack.

The boy’s face was ghost-white, his eyes large and haunted, and he glanced desperately around like a cornered animal. Frost began to spread beneath his bare feet, spanning out in dangerous looking spikes that stabbed up from the floor in a small protective circle around him. He gasped for breath, seeing something none of them could see.

“Jack,” North whispered. “Jack… it is alright.” He reached out.

“No!” Bunny snapped. “Don’t touch him. You don’t know what he’ll do.”

Tooth glared at Bunny, her little fairies chirping angrily, but none of them could deny that it probably wasn’t the best idea to get any closer to Jack. Baby Tooth shivered in the cooling air.

“Give him some space,” Bunny said, making a clear effort to lower the edge in his voice. “He’s like a croc.”

North took a few cautious steps back, Sandy as well, until they were out of Jack’s striking range. For several tense minutes, no one moved—not even the stupid elves—and Jack slowly appeared to be calming. His breath grew lighter, more even, and slow. The spears of ice surrounding him began to melt and shrink. His eyes came back into focus and he lifted a trembling hand to touch his face, fingers ghosting over the injury at his temple. Then, all at once, Jack realized that his friends were looking at him with mixtures of wariness and concern.

“I can’t help Jamie or Sophie,” Jack said suddenly and firmly. “They can’t even see me.”

Bunny began, “That’s true—”

“But we can change that!” Tooth exclaimed. Her smile was blinding. “Of course we can change that! We owe it to you, Jack! After all, you helped make children believe in us again.”

“Of course!” North boomed out. “I am fantastic story teller!”

“We’ll tell them right now!” Tooth said gleefully. 

Sandy’s golden whip snared Tooth’s ankle and North’s elbow. Firmly, he shook his head and formed the image of the sun over his head.

“Ah, yes,” North said sheepishly. “We will tell children in morning. Right now, children are sleeping.”

Tooth giggled, embarrassed. “Of course,” she said softly. “In the morning then.”

Bunny folded his arms. “I don’t—” 

But Tooth swept him off down the hall, dragging him by one of his long ears before he could get out any further protest. Several elves and yetis followed after them, leaving Jack, North, and Sandy standing in the hallway outside the spare bedroom. 

“Would you like to continue watching over them?” North asked Jack gently.

Jack nodded. “Yeah… but, North, I really don’t think I’m cut out to help them. I mean, what if Bunny’s right?” His voice broke. “What if I mess up again?”

“Jack,” North said and gently placed his hand on Jack’s thin shoulder. “Man in Moon chose you to be Guardian and face Pitch. Was he wrong to choose you?”

“I did ruin Easter. It was all my fault that—”

“But in end, you saved us all,” North interrupted. “So, was Man in Moon wrong to make you Guardian?”

Jack wanted to protest, but North’s eyes were so big and blue that he just couldn’t. “I guess not,” he whispered instead.

“Trust Man in Moon,” North encouraged. “He knows what is best.”

Jack glanced out the nearby window, feeling the moonlight play on his face like a comforting touch. The gentleness, the feeling of protection, washed over him and pushed back all the memories that threatened to overwhelm him, but Jack could still feel them biting at his soul just underneath the skin. The Man in the Moon had given him a gift, erased those memories and gave him a new life, but Jack had been too desperate to get them back and remember who or what he was. Now, he merely wished he had trusted the Moon as North did and left those memories locked away.

“Alright,” Jack whispered. “I’ll do my best…”

North clapped him on the back. “Good.” Then, calling goodnight to Jack, he made his way down the hall after Tooth and Bunny.

Jack turned to Sandy and the little golden man gave him a comforting smile before following after the others. After all, it was late and Sandy still had work to do. There were plenty of children that needed good dreams out there in the dark cold world. As long as they dreamed of happiness, Pitch would remain weak and unseen.

A little stab of pain went through Jack’s heart at that thought. He knew what it was like to be unseen and unheard and he would never wish that on another, not even Pitch. 

He chased away those thoughts, but his mind merely returned to his memories. 

Jack hesitated at the window, wishing he could beg the moon to take his memories back, but he had wanted them and now he had them. He would just have to live with that, just as everyone else who went through what he had gone through lived with the scars on their soul for the rest of their lives. If only his life was short like theirs… but there was no end in sight for Jack Frost. Jack would live forever with his memories until winter or the world itself ended.

Jack sighed, clenching his fingers into fists. 

It didn’t really help matters to know the other Guardians—his friends—were worried about him. He couldn’t trust them, but some distant part of his mind protested that and he changed the thought to ‘I can’t tell them.’ What if they knew the truth and turned him away? After all, how could someone like him be a Guardian? He wasn’t… very good at… protecting anyone… least of all himself.

Jack sighed heavily, running a hand through his pale hair.

Tooth and all her little fairies would want to comfort him if they knew. He knew he’d get a million hugs and kisses and soft touches and kind words, but he wasn’t sure that was what he even wanted. The more he remembered, the more he was beginning to think that not being touched was a blessing in disguise.

North wouldn’t see him any differently, but he would probably back off with his fatherly attitude and helpful big hands. He would leave Jack to his own devices more and more often, giving the boy the space he desperately wanted and hated. North would do anything he could to make Jack better, but there was no healing from some things. There was no wonder for North to see in Jack’s past.

Sandy, Jack was sure, would comfort Jack in the silent way he had for years when he passed the lonely child in the night sky. He would send Jack good dreams of dolphins and children and snow and families and make sure nightmares never invaded Jack’s mind at night. Sandy would give Jack a refuge, but that was almost like pretending it never happened. And it did. Jack knew it did—he remembered.

And Bunny… Jack didn’t think Bunny would change at all if he knew. Or maybe Bunny would change the most because Bunny could still be cross and scalding to Jack. If he knew just how broken Jack was on the inside, maybe he would start treating Jack like he was some porcelain sculpture that shouldn’t be touched or spoken to unkindly. Jack had no way of knowing for certain.

He shivered despite himself, gripping his staff tightly out of habit.

In the large bed, Jamie moaned softly and shifted in his sleep, but Sandy’s dream was strong and good. He didn’t wake or become troubled and merely slipped deeper into the dreamland. Beside her brother, Sophie was peaceful in sleep, protected, and Jack returned to their bedside, watching over them contentedly. He kept his thoughts on Jamie and Sophie, on helping them, and hoped that he would figure out how he was supposed to help them. He hoped these thoughts would keep his memories at bay.

X X X

I’d love **SkyHighFan** to leave me a review since he (or she) was waiting so eagerly for this chapter. Let me know what you thought of it!

Questions, comments, concerns?


	7. Their Thoughts in the Night

I wish it would rain.

X X X

Tooth made herself comfortable among the many cushions and pillows of the bed North had specially made for her. (He had a room for each of the Guardians, just in case there was ever some kind of emergency like this where they all needed to stay together.) But she was unable to sleep, even with her many small fairies nestled against her sides. Usually, the sounds of their soft breathing and little sleep sounds comforted her, but she was restless with her concern for Jack, Jamie, and Sophie.

Baby Tooth twittered softly, coming to rest against Tooth’s collarbones. 

“What’s wrong, Baby?” Tooth asked. “Do you want to spend the night with Jack?”

Baby Tooth murmured softly.

“Yeah,” Tooth agreed. “I don’t blame you. He does seem so lonely, especially now.”

Then, Baby Tooth told her mother in a language all their own about what she had heard Jamie say in his sleep. She told Tooth about how gentle Jack had been, how he had seemed to know exactly what to do to comfort the poor child, how his blue eyes had glittered so sadly and strangely. She told Tooth everything she had seen and heard when she had been with Jack. And since she had been sitting on Jack’s shoulder, nestled against his cheek, she also described the way Jack’s pulse leaped and raced as if he was incredibly tormented.

Tooth’s heart skipped a beat, sputtering in her chest. 

Again, Baby Tooth repeated the words she had heard Jamie whisper in his nightmare. _“No, please… that hurts, Daddy… Mommy, please… don’t…”_

“What?” she whispered.

Baby Tooth nodded.

“Alright, Baby,” Tooth said gently. “I’ll tell the others in the morning, okay?”

Baby Tooth shook her head, protesting that this was Jack’s secret and that he should tell them when he was ready. Usually, Tooth would have agreed, but they had to help Jamie before something terrible happened. They couldn’t really afford to be concerned for Jack’s slow nature.

“I have to tell them, Baby,” Tooth said softly.

But Baby Tooth protested with even more vehemence. 

“Alright,” Tooth relented finally. “I’ll tell them what Jamie said, but I won’t tell them about Jack’s behavior unless it becomes absolutely necessary. Deal?”

Baby Tooth considered this for a long moment, but agreed.

“Good,” Tooth said and gently stroked her soft feathers. She settled the little fairy amongst the others nestled against her body and tried to sleep, but her mind was now more wild than ever. Jack… what had he gone through in his short human life and the past three hundred years? Why was it weighing so heavily on his present time? And why was he the one best suited to help Jamie and Sophie? What did they have in common? All these thoughts made it impossible to sleep so Tooth lay awake for a long time, just gazing at the ceiling in her nest of pillows and cushions.

…

Bunnymund paced the large expanse in front of the fireplace, wishing it wasn’t so damn cold in the North Pole and that he was snuggled warmly back into his Warren instead. Of course, it was nighttime and there wasn’t much going on and there wasn’t much stopping him from going home where it was warm and safe from elves for a few hours, but he refused to give into that temptation. He didn’t trust Jack to protect Jamie and Sophie sufficiently and he wasn’t about to turn his back on them for one bloody minute.

What if Jack mucked up again? Just like he had during Easter against Pitch Black?

Bunny was unwilling to risk the welfare of two innocent children on the off-chance that Jack Frost screwed up once again as he had been known to do. Bunny had tried to explain to Tooth that it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Jack, it was just that Jack had a bad track record where screwing up was concerned. Bunny didn’t want to take the risk, but it seemed he was the only one who felt that way. North, Tooth, and Sandy were all content to leave Jamie and Sophie with Jack even through the night. It didn’t matter to Bunny that Jack would sooner die than hurt either of them.

He just didn’t feel comfortable with this entire situation.

And the cherry on top of this entire steaming manure pie was that Jack was even more impulsive and fragile and flighty than usual. He had blasted Tooth and Bunny both with a wave of ice and frost. His powers were too connected to his emotions that it was dangerous. It didn’t matter that Bunny had smashed the boy in the head, drawn blood, and apparently frightened Jack. It was… the entire situation just didn’t smell right. Bunny’s instincts told him to watch Jamie and Sophie closely and Jack even closer. 

His faith in the Man in the Moon be damned.

Bunny paced away from the fireplace to stand before the window, bathed in the moonlight. “Well, I know you haven’t led us astray before, but this just doesn’t seem like a good idea, mate. Jack hasn’t been a Guardian that long. What does he knew about helping children?”

As if in answer, the moon’s silver light showered down on Bunny’s head. He felt the coolness of the moonlight, the safety and protection that the moon brought to the Guardians. Comfort and strength flowed into Bunny’s heart. He sighed softly, whiskers quivering with his breath.

And then, something else entirely flowed into Bunny.

_It took him a moment to recognize the frozen and snow-dusted surface of the lake and then he shivered out of reflex, but he cold did not touch him. In fact, the entire world around him swirled, untouched and uninfluenced by Bunny’s presence. He was a dreamer tossed into someone else’s dream, a ghost in this place. Snow was thick on the ground, but for some reason it didn’t seem as beautiful as it had in the past three hundred years._

_“What?” Bunny breathed, surprised that his breath didn’t plume in front of his face._

_Then, the surface of the lake cracked from underneath, as if something was pushing up. Bunny darted forward, concern overtaking his caution on the ice, but he didn’t even slip on the surface nor did the ice thaw beneath his paws. Heedless of him, the surface bowed and cracked and then pushed ups slightly. Like a puppet pulled on an invisible string, a familiar rail-thin body was pulled from beneath the ice, gasping for breath._

_“Jack?” Bunny gasped. Then, he realized what he was seeing. It was the moment of Jack Frost’s birth._

_The thin body, barefoot and dressed in old-fashioned clothing, was lifting into the air. He continued to gasp for breath as if someone was going to steal all the air in the world away from him. Slowly, he calmed, gazing up at the moon with his bright blue eyes. There was fear in Jack’s face, but it faded slowly, giving way to a certain peace. As if content, the Man in the Moon lowered the boy back onto the surface of the lake. The moment his toes touched the ice, the cracks refroze and became a perfect plane beneath his feet—solid and safe._

_Jack looked around with eyes like a newborn baby’s, unfocused but trying to take in and understand everything in an instant. He looked down at his feet, at the smooth slippery surface of the lake, and appeared surprised to see both. Then, he looked at his pale work-worn hands, his gaze traveling up his arms and over his clothes. Then, he touched his face. His fingers explored his nose and cheeks, but finally went to his mouth. He touched his lips as if there was a bad taste left inside, confusion marking his expression as he drew his hands away. Something lingered on his hand, some foreign substance that he didn’t appear to like. For a moment, he looked incredibly troubled, stricken even._

_But the soft moonlight bathed down on him and Jack turned his attention from his own body to the moon once again. He gazed up at the moon and Bunny saw tears fill the boy’s eyes, but they didn’t fall. For what felt like a small eternity, Jack just gazed at the moon. Maybe the Man in the Moon was telling Jack his name, but Bunny would never know for certain. Then, Jack turned his gaze back to the surface of the lake, taking a few careful and slipping-sliding steps._

_“Be careful, you gumby!” Bunny shouted at him, suddenly afraid for the ice beneath Jack’s feet._

_His toes brushed what Bunny recognized as his shepherd’s crook, frost spreading the length of the skinny stick. Curious, Jack bent to pick it up and his feet slipped out from beneath him, forcing him to kneel quickly to prevent himself from falling. He examined the staff, running his fingers across it curiously. Then, he slipped again and one end of the staff crashed down to the ice. A wave of beautiful fern-shaped frost spread out wildly before Jack’s wide eyes._

_His lips curved into a happy smile as he managed to scramble back to his feet without sliding. He made his way to the banks and tapped the staff gently on a tree, watching in awe as more lovely frost spread out across the bark. He did this to a second tree, his face lighting up with childish joy that Bunny had never seen on Jack’s face before. His heart melted for the boy. Had Jack always looked so innocent, so sweet, or was that only something Bunny saw now while Jack was as new and fresh as any baby?_

_“Jack,” Bunny whispered in the silence._

_Grinning, light on his feet with the eagerness and delight of youth, Jack rushed back out onto the frozen lake with his staff arching behind him. A fan of frost spread out behind him, dancing across the lake’s surface beautifully in the moonlight. He slipped several times, not nearly as graceful as the Jack Bunny saw each day, and nearly fell. Then, just as he neared a nasty jagged cliff of black rocks against the lakes edge and slipped yet again, the wind scooped the boy up and flung him high in the air._

_Bunny could hear Jack shouting in surprise and wonder, his light body spinning wildly on the wind’s current. He hung in the air like a star for a long moment, gazing down at the frosty surface of the lake he had created. Jack looked pleased and proud, something Bunny hadn’t seen on the boy’s face but for a few rare occasions. Then, abruptly, the wind let Jack go and he was falling, screaming somewhere between delight and terror._

_“Blimey! Be careful, you bloody show pony!” Bunny shouted to Jack, but his voice went unheard._

_Jack crashed down through the branches of a pine tree, yelping all the while until a thick branch stopped his descent. He was plastered along the branch in such a way that Bunny was sure he had broken something, but Jack began to giggle quietly and straightened himself up. He was still clutching onto that bloody staff of his tightly, managing to keep hold of it even as he had fallen. Now, he got his feet underneath him and crouched on the branch, looking out over the world._

_In the distance, Bunny heard the toll of church bells. There was a village nearby and Jack must have seen it because a moment later he was leaping into the air without a care for his safety and the wind was blowing him like a leaf. (And with about as much care as the wind gave to a leaf. Bunny heard Jack shouting and shrieking wildly as he got used to the rough ride.)_

_Suddenly, the world around Bunny shifted and changed. Snow banks rose stiffly on either side of the village, surrounding it like a nest. He was standing in a small colonial village lit with several amber bonfires to keep away the Devil. He had to be careful to keep out of the way of several men, women, and children who went about on their errands of the night. He had been passed through before and didn’t particularly enjoy it, ghost in a dream or not._

_Bunny heard Jack before he saw him. The boy was whooping and hollering, doing his best to ride the wind and not fall through the trees again. The wind appeared to be trying to work with Jack as well, lowering him in great jerks and leaps towards the ground. Each sudden descent and rise made the boy yelp, still clutching onto that silly stick of his. Finally, Jack’s feet were a few feet from the ground and he looked about to land safely when the wind just dropped him._

_Jack fell those last few feet, landing on his face and chest with his cloak flipped up over his face. Blind but unwilling to remain lying down for more than a few seconds, Jack leaped back to his feet. He stumbled about, slipping on the few patches of ice and snow and still unable to see where he was going. Again, he fell, rather ass over teakettle. Finally, he righted himself, flipping his cloak back over his shoulders. He should have looked embarrassed, but Jack only laughed. He laughed like a child who was finally getting to enjoy childhood, to act his young age._

_Bunny nearly snorted with laughter. It wasn’t often he saw Jack acting like such an uncoordinated fool. He seemed to be enjoying the abuse the wind gave him._

_Jack brushed some snow off himself, still laughing, and hustled into the village as if they hadn’t all just seen him fall out of the sky and trip over himself like a moron. He giggled at his own antics, rushing about eagerly through the crowd. He called ‘Hello!’ to several villagers._

_Bunny snorted. Some people just had no shame…_

_Jack moved through them, his steps light and eager. He gravitated towards women and children, moving away from men without even seeming to realize it. He said ‘Hello’ to several more of them, waving and smiling beautifully, but no one paid him any mind. A child was running, laughing, holding a snowball. Jack crouched down to be closer and grinned, “Hello, can you tell me where I am?”_

_Bunny knew what was going to happen and shouted a warning to Jack, but his voice was as unheard as Jack’s was._

_The child passed through Jack and kept running. In an instant, all the happiness and innocence was wiped from Jack’s face as if someone had physically ripped those feeling from him. He staggered back, his face growing pale and the bright silver moonlight grew grey around him. Desperately, he called out, but the villagers continued to walk right through him. Now Jack turned to the men, calling to them, but he only received the same results._

_Dejected and horrified, Jack quickly turned from the village. He moved into the forest and quickly disappeared among the snowdrifts and frosted trees. He looked like a child shrinking in the face of a disappointed parent, but it was also so much worse than that. No one could see him. No one believed in him. He was alone… for three hundred long years…_

Then, Bunny was standing in front of the window in North’s workshop again. 

The night outside was deep and dark and empty. The blanket of fresh snow sparkled, dusted with beautiful fern-shaped frost that Jack’s mere presence brought on. The stars twinkling softly, like winking eyes, and the moon was a crescent, like a smile. The night was silent save for the soft sounds of elves, distant howling of wolves, and the patter of snowflakes.

He looked up at the Man in the Moon, uncomprehending. “Why would you show me that? What does that have to do with what is going on now, mate?” Bunny demanded.

Just as the moon had never answered Jack, it had no answer for Bunny either.

…

Sandy always watched over the dreams of his fellow immortals with care since they didn’t dream often. He crafted their dreams to perfection, making them a world of their own and as wondrous as everything they took care to guard. He gave Bunny plenty of perfect Easter Sundays and egg hunts and, lately, dreams of children in his Warren. (Jack had opened a soft spot in the oversized rabbit’s heart.) He gifted Tooth with nights of tucking in the children when she came to take their lost teeth, reading them stories and enjoying their company. North was content with any dream and Sandy often gave him wild ones. 

Jack’s dreams used to be simple—snowball fights, sledding, snow days, dolphins, wonders of warmer climates that Jack had never seen.

Then, as three hundred years stretched on and aged Jack, his dreams became different. He dreamed of families, of dinners, of a warm bed, of a hug and a kiss goodnight, of touching and being touched.

Now, Jack had belief, but he still wished for those things in his dreams. Slowly, Sandy noticed a change in the youngest Guardian’s dreams. Jack’s dreams darkened and shifted into something half-hidden and Freudian. He dreamed of his sister and his mother, of having his own bed, of not being hungry or cold, of not tasting salt in his mouth so often, of his body not aching at the seams. 

Though Sandy tried to understand the dreams, he couldn’t. Or maybe he didn’t want to, but the sense of unease filled him. Jack’s dodgy answers when the Sandman asked about the young winter spirit’s dreams only made Sandy worry more.

Now, Sandy was just careful to craft Jack sweet dreams. He tried to protect Jack while he slept, but there were something that people just couldn’t be protected from. Sandy didn’t wish to understand this, but he did. Jack, though a child, was beyond the Guardian’s protection.

…

When North was unable to sleep, he spent time tinkering and sculpting ice in his workshop. Night was the best time to get things done anyway. The yetis and elves all went to sleep and there was less risk of interruption or breakage at night. Now, he reclined in his comfortable chair, gazing at the plate of delicious cookies that he didn’t feel like eating.

He selected a block of ice—some of the never-melting blocks Jack had helped him to create—and began to carve slowly, but nothing he carved felt right in his hands. He tried a train, but couldn’t get the wheels right. He carved a plane, but one wing was too short and the other was too long no matter what he did. He tried to carve a princess, but she came out looking like her Prince Charming was dead. Finally, he set aside his tools and allowed himself to think about what he was trying so hard not to think of.

Jack Frost.

There were a lot of things wrong with that boy. 

His powers were dangerous under the best of circumstances since they were so closely connected to his emotions. One angry or unkind word and Jack could send the world into the next ice age, but he didn’t. Somehow, Jack kept that unbelievable power in check and had managed to go three hundred years without purposefully or seriously hurting anyone. (But winter was a dangerous season and they probably had Jack to thank that more lives hadn’t been lost over the years.)

The boy was obviously and clearly damaged by three hundred years of abandonment and neglect from both the Man in the Moon and his fellow immortals. He hadn’t been touched and had hardly been spoken to in three centuries. That was a long time for anyone to be that alone so North couldn’t grudge him the moments he either flinched from a touch or held on too long. Jack soaked up each touch and word spoken to him like a drowning man.

Jack was flighty, often leaving for days at a time as if he would wear out his welcome in North’s home. He often looked at things oddly, savoring them as if he would never see them again. He still occasionally snuck in through windows instead of coming in through the front door as if the yetis would once again turn him away. He hurt himself and patched up his own body. A few times, North had even caught him hiding away food as if he would be forbidden from it. 

Jack didn’t trust his fellow guardians—he didn’t trust anyone—to help him, but who could blame him? For three hundred years, he had had no one but himself.

Jack was fragile and innocent. He was a child at heart, but he rarely let himself show how the little things in life awed and intrigued and amused him. His every move was cautious, as if someone was watching for a weakness in him. Jack was also touch-starved and food-starved and starved for attention. He aggravated and teased everyone because he didn’t know how to get any attention other than bad attention because that was all he had gotten for years. He was… he was Jack.

North wished there was something he could do to make the boy feel comfortable.

He thought that once Pitch Black was defeated, once Jack was believed in, once he celebrated Jack becoming a Guardian, once he welcomed Jack into his home, once Jack got his memories back… things would get better. Instead, it became a long line of things he hoped Jack would be better after they happened, but the boy didn’t improve. In fact, as time wore on, Jack seemed to grow worse—more and more concerned that his time with his friends was running out and he would be thrown away again no matter how much North tried to convince him otherwise.

There was something deeply wrong with Jack, but he didn’t trust anyone enough to tell them about it. Slowly, North knew whatever was troubling him was eating him up from the inside. He was concerned that it was only a matter of time before Jack broke apart at the core in silence.

Instead, the old man prayed that Jack would trust them enough to ask for help before that happened. 

He also prayed that Jamie would as well.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

Please leave comments!


	8. Sophie's Belief

Man, I’m so tired. I was at work all day yesterday. I only stopped for lunch.

X X X

Sophie woke early the next morning before Jamie. She kissed her brother’s cheek and slipped out of bed without waking him. Unseen, Jack followed her as she stole past the still-sleeping elves and into the workshop. She wandered among the toys, looking up with wide wonder-filled eyes at the princess castles, red and blue robots, yellow trucks, and beautiful dolls. But she didn’t reach to touch anything (which was just as well because the yetis were touchy about their toys and Jack had no way to stop her). It was so adult, no un-childlike, that it broke Jack’s heart a little more.

“Sophie,” he whispered, but she didn’t hear him.

She made her way through the workshop, soaking in the sights and smells, smiling. Why did she only smile like this when she thought she was alone? Even though she had been smiling and laughing the day before while North had given her a grand tour, it wasn’t with the same freedom she smiled now. Jack knew, but he wished he didn’t. 

She climbed the stairs slowly, with a cautiousness that spoke of falling down the stairs or else being told to be careful on stairs too many times. Jack hoped it was the latter, but he knew the truth. Sophie reached the Belief Globe and stood there, staring at it, for a long time. 

“Pretty,” she whispered and jumped as if surprised by her own voice. “Sorry,” she whispered to anyone she might have disturbed and then moved forward on her exploration.

Jack followed her like a shadow, sometimes pushing open doors to a place he thought she would like. She gasped each time, surprised to find doors opening and closing by themselves or else shocked by the kiss of cold air on her exposed neck and nose, but her surprise was quickly replaced by wonder each time. Jack smiled at he followed in her wake, understanding for the first time, why North so enjoyed being the Guardian of Wonder. It really was a wonderful thing to see that expression on children’s faces.

Sophie pushed open the door to North’s ice-carving workshop, shivering in the waft of cold air that escaped the room, but entered anyway. It felt like a long time ago that Jack had been offered fruitcake and then cornered here by North in a threatening manner when the older Guardian demanded to know Jack’s center. Even so, it was one of his favorite rooms in the entire workshop. 

But there was something unexpected in the room. Jack wasn’t sure who was more surprised—he and Sophie for finding North dozing off, mouth open and snoring loudly in his chair, or North for being found in such a position. 

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Then, North quickly leaped to his feet, spiriting away a few small ice sculptures before Jack could get a good look at them. “Sophie, good morning, child!” North said in his big booming voice, opening his arms to encompass her in an embrace.

Sophie flinched, her lower lip quivering. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, small voice stumbling over the words. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll go.”

“Nonsense!” North said and grasped her by her shoulder. He whirled her into an empty chair and dropped his coat over her to keep her warm in the chill of the room. “Sophie is welcome anywhere in North Pole.”

“Really?” she whispered.

North nodded and then slid Jack a wink. “I made you a present,” North said to Sophie. 

“But,” she murmured, “it isn’t Christmas.”

“So what?” North said. “Presents can be given any time of year. One only needs special occasion.” Then, with a great flourish, North pulled out the sculptures he had been so quick to hide. They were tiny detailed images of Jack Frost, Pitch Black, the other Guardians, and a few Nightmares. 

Sophie chose one from North’s outstretched hand and Jack tried not to feel disappointed that she had chosen Tooth instead of his sculpture. Tooth’s was far more interesting to look at for a child with her beautiful wings and many feathers, even in the form of ice. “Who are they?” Sophie asked and gestured to Jack, Pitch, and the Nightmares.

“This,” North said, showing her Pitch and his Nightmares, “is very bad guy. He tried to cover whole world in fear!” North’s voice boomed and for a moment, even Jack looked around to investigate the shadows for signs of the Boogeyman. (North really was a good story teller.)

Sophie gasped, her grip tightening on Tooth’s sculpture. “But you saved the world, right?” she asked.

North lowered his eyes. “Not me, no,” he confessed.

“Then who?” Sophie asked.

North gently took the sculpture of Tooth from her hand and set it down on his desk with the others. Then, he slid Jack another wink and Jack understood. Using a little bit of power, he stretched out to touch the tiny ice figurines and brought them to life. All he had to do was listen to North’s voice and animate the story better than any picture book. (In hindsight, he would recall the story not being nearly so theatrical or dynamic as North made it sound, but at the time, he didn’t care.)

“Battle was fierce,” North said. “Fear made children stop believing and Guardians began to fail, but Jack Frost was very brave. He fought Nightmare King on his own territory and managed to instill belief in one single child. But Pitch was not happy with this. He attacked Jack and the child and the fallen Guardians were too weak to help. So do you know what Jack Frost did?”

Sophie shook her head, breathless, eyes wide with wonder.

“He threw snowball right into Nightmare King’s face!” North exclaimed. 

“He wouldn’t!” Sophie gasped. “That’s scary! Dangerous!”

“Jack Frost is brave! He has fun in face of fear! He is Guardian of Fun!”

There was a long moment of silence as Sophie absorbed North’s story. For a moment, Jack feared North’s plan hadn’t worked. Sophie still didn’t believe in him, didn’t see him, so how would he help her? The ice figurines clattered down on the desk. The sculpture of Jack rolled across the wood and would have fallen if Sophie hadn’t caught it with both hands. She held it tightly, her eyes wide.

“But… is that true?” she whispered.

“Of course it is true!” North told her, straightening the other fallen figures.

“But… where is he?” she asked. “If it’s true what you told me…?”

North glanced at Jack, wondering what was taking the boy so long to act.

Finally, Jack got the hint. He lifted one hand and showered soft fluffy snowflakes down on Sophie’s blond head. She shivered slightly, lifting her face to the few flakes. She stuck out her tongue, tasting them, and giggled rather suddenly. “Jack Frost,” she whispered.

A little ripple of warmth ran through Jack’s entire soul. He felt the belief enter him, fill him up to the brim. For one moment, he forgot all the pain that had been gnawing at his heart. Then, North tipped his chin in Jack’s direction and Sophie eagerly turned. Her wonder-filled eyes fell on Jack like a physical touch.

“Jack Frost,” she breathed.

“Hi, Sophie,” he whispered as if speaking too loudly would break the spell cast over the moment. 

“You know my name?” she asked softly. 

Jack nodded. “I’ve been watching over you,” he explained. 

“Why?” she asked him, her eyes glowing.

“Because…” But then the words stuck in his throat. He forced a smile, trying to think of something to tell her, but nothing came to mind. 

Luckily, North was there to hurry things along. “Because we are all here to help you and your brother, Sophie,” he explained to the child. “You are in need of help and we will provide it.”

Sophie didn’t tear her eyes from Jack even as North spoke. She was gazing at him as if his thin body held some sort of meaning to her, as if she sensed something inside him, just as he felt it in her. That was until she heard the word ‘help,’ then she turned to North with something strange in her dark green eyes. 

“No one can help me,” Sophie said. Then, in her adult voice, she said, “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Sophie,” North said gently.

“No!” she shouted. “Nothing’s wrong!”

North looked taken aback to have what he knew to be true denied to his face. He was about to argue with the little girl further, insist that she needed help, but Jack lifted a hand and gave his head a small shake. Sophie glanced at him, something akin to gratitude in her eyes, but she quickly smothered it. 

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” she told North. “I’m fine.”

“I know,” Jack said, crouching down beside her. “Why don’t we go have a little fun?”

Sophie started to shake her head, to protest with her too-adult voice, “But Jamie…” 

“Just let Jamie sleep,” Jack murmured, crouching down to meet her eyes. “He’s tired, isn’t he? Why don’t we let him sleep?”

Then, Sophie slowly nodded and smiled at him thinly. “I’d like that,” she whispered instead. Then, so softly Jack barely heard her, “Jamie needs to sleep… Daddy doesn’t let him…”

Jack touched her shoulder lightly, but Sophie threw her arms around his neck and clung to him in a tight embrace as if he would disappear if she didn’t touch him. Jack gathered her up, supporting her slight weight with one arm and gripping his staff in his free hand. 

North almost thought Jack’s thin body would break under the slight weight, but Jack proved stronger than he looked on several occasions.

“Jack,” North said softly.

The boy merely smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry so much,” he said. “We’ll have a little fun and come right back, okay? Maybe you can talk to the others in the meantime.”

North nodded. “Alright,” he agreed.

True to form, there was a gust of cold wind and snow and then Jack was gone from the room. North nearly shouted for Jack to remember to get Sophie into a new coat and boots that the yetis had made, but he knew Jack would remember. The boy might be wild and just a little reckless, but he was a Guardian and he had common sense (even if he didn’t listen to it very often). He would never let a little girl freeze out in the winter snowdrifts and Sophie had the sense to ask for a jacket even if it did happen to slip from Jack’s mind.

Content that they were safe, North got to his feet, put away the ice sculptures he had made of his friends and foes, and then hurried out of his office. He had to wake up the yetis and get breakfast going. Maybe Bunny would let them eat some Easter eggs and the thought made him chuckle, but North doubted Bunny would ever allow that. Besides, it would be hard to eat something that cute… and creepy… 

Surprisingly, Bunny was already in the kitchen, perched on his hind legs and looking out the large window. Outside, North had a good view of Jack and Sophie having a romp in the fresh snow. Jack conjured up snowmen and snow-women with a wave of his staff, building snow-dogs and snow-cats and snow-children all at Sophie’s beck and call. Bunny watched them closely, his brows drawn together, and he was so fixated on them that he didn’t hear North come in.

“She is fine, Bunny,” North said. “Perfectly safe with Jack.”

Bunny jumped, looking sheepish after he turned to face his friend. “You didn’t startle me,” he said firmly.

“I know,” North said and moved to start heating milk for cocoa. “But stop looking at Jack like he is going to hurt little girl. Did you forget? Man in Moon gave Jack new life and made his Guardian after Jack sacrificed his own life to save his sister. He will not hurt Sophie.”

“I know that, mate,” Bunny said and sighed heavily. Seeing Jack’s birth had given him a little understanding of the boy. It made him see that despite all Jack had accomplished and done, he was still merely an innocent child. He was hurt and he needed love that had been denied him for more than three hundred years. “I’m not just concerned for the little ankle biter,” he admitted.

“Oh?” North asked, lifting a brow.

“I’m worried about Jack,” Bunny admitted. “I know we’ve had our ups and downs and he’s still not my favorite person, but… he’s been acting so strange lately.”

Tooth fluttered into the kitchen, yawning softly. “Sandy still sleeping?” she asked the others. “Is there any cocoa yet?” Bunny nodded to the first question and North handed her a mug to answer the second. She took a long sip, offered some to her little fairies, and then realized the serious atmosphere in the room. “What were you talking about?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.

“Jack,” North said.

“And Sophie and Jamie,” Bunny added.

Baby Tooth buzzed against Tooth’s ear, twittering noisily.

“I know, Baby,” Tooth agreed and set down her mug. “Guys, I need to tell you something. Last night, when Baby Tooth was with Jack and Jamie was having a nightmare, she heard Jamie say something that I think we should talk about.”

“What did little boy say?” North asked.

_“No, please… that hurts, Daddy… Mommy, please… don’t…”_

Tooth repeated them slowly as if the words hurt her. Baby Tooth chirped sadly and the two male Guardians exchanged a look. Those words painted a very clear picture of what probably happened to Jamie and his sister and none of them liked the idea of it. For them to be stepping in, it must have been more serious than any of them originally thought. And for her to be sent to Jack rather than Tooth or North or even Bunny… They didn’t want to consider the implications.

“Do you think Jack knows?” Tooth asked, her hands folded tightly against her breasts.

“I think he suspects,” North said.

“Any one of us could have figured that out from those words,” Bunny put in icily. “Crikey! What’s he thinking not telling us about this? I ought to—”

“Bunny,” Tooth said firmly if not sadly.

“No, I think Jack suspected even before that,” North continued. “I think that is why Man in Moon sent them to Jack.”

“Because Jack already knew?” Bunny asked, anger and frustration heating his accent until his words were nearly intelligible.

“How could he know?” North put in, stroking his beard. “He would have said something to us or tried to help already. He’s not the type of person to watch something like that happen and not step in.”

Tooth’s wings vibrated with concern, thinking back to Jack’s behavior since regaining his human memories. She, as the Guardian of Memories, was the first to realize why the Man in the Moon must have sent the children to Jack and a gasp escaped her. Baby Tooth buzzed around her head inquisitively, wondering what made her mother’s eyes well with tears. North’s face darkened with sorrow and pain—having once been a fierce bandit, it was easy to imagine horrors. Bunny took longer to make a connection and then he whispered a soft curse.

“You don’t really think…?” Bunny began, but couldn’t finish his question.

“Toothy?” North asked the fairy.

She bit her lower lip, her white teeth shining in the low light. “I don’t look at everyone’s memories, North, and I won’t look at Jack’s. If something happened to him, I want him to tell us on his own. I want him to trust us. If I were to look at his memories without his permission…” She shook her head, feathers quivering. “I won’t betray his trust like that.”

“But we need to know!” Bunny half-shouted, stomping his foot in frustration.

Baby Tooth flew right up into Bunny’s face, twittering angrily. She had been with Jack, trapped in that cold crevice in Antarctica, when he had first glimpsed his human memories. She remembered Jack’s joy at discovering he had a family and a sister that he had died saving. She loved Jack and she wouldn’t let Bunny bully Jack or Tooth.

“Alright, alright,” Bunny relented, waving her away. “So what do we do then?”

North leaned on the counter, gazing out the window where Jack and Sophie were playing contentedly in the snow. 

Jack was having a snowball fight with the child, his pale face lit up with excitement and happiness. Then, Sophie managed to land a blow in him and giggled in triumph as Jack acted as if it was the most grievous injury he had ever received and proceeded to fall over dead in the snow, clutching his chest. Sophie leaned over him, concerned, and Jack grabbed her up in his arms, laughing as she squealed in surprise. Then, suddenly, Sophie sneezed and shivered with cold. Jack was immediately fussing over her even as she tried to convince him it was nothing. Jack was having none of it, though. He declared her the winner, gathered her up, and carried her inside—out of North’s sight.

“For now,” North said with a sigh, “we take care of Sophie and Jamie.”

Tooth nodded in agreement.

Bunny looked unhappy with this decision, but finally agreed. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was more than concerned for Jack. He was downright worried, especially considering how he had treated the lonely spirit-boy over the long years.

Then, Jack appeared in the threshold of the kitchen with Sophie at his side, holding her small hand. If Sophie was chilled by the temperature of his cool skin, she didn’t show it. In fact, she hung on to Jack like a lifeline. “Hey everyone,” he said cheerfully. “Is there any cocoa yet?”

Tooth was quick to pour out two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, handing one to Jack and the other to Sophie. 

Jack grinned down at Sophie, freed his hand from hers, and let frost fan beneath his feet. He skated across the floor, weaving elaborate patterns, and got down a bag of marshmallows from the cupboard. Then, he slipped and skidded his way back to Sophie’s side, acting as if there was no possible way he could stay on his feet and whooping loudly as he fell about. Then, he spilled a mess of marshmallows into her mug and smiled when she laughed.

“I want to bring some of this to Jamie,” Sophie said softly but cheerfully.

“Okay,” Jack said with a wide smile. “We’ll bring him a mug of it.”

The little girl smiled.

Tooth watched closely, her heart skipping beats as hope overwhelmed her. Maybe they didn’t have anything to worry about. Maybe the Man in the Moon had sent Sophie to Jack because of this—because Jack was a child at heart and in body and it was easier for children to trust other children. 

But then, she saw a shadow cross Jack’s face. He suddenly pressed a hand to his thigh, as if an old wound lurked there, and then pulled his hand quickly away when he saw her looking at him. He forced a smile, showing her his perfect teeth as if he hoped that would distract her, and Tooth smiled back as if she hadn’t seen him clutching at his thigh.  
It wasn’t going to be that easy, she realized, and hoping otherwise was more than foolish.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns? 


	9. Belief, but Distrust

Long morning… A friend of mine is moving and I’m helping out!

X X X

After their romp in the snow, Jack brought Sophie back to the room she had shared with her brother. Inside, Jamie was surprisingly still asleep, but Sophie’s softly-whispered words echoed in Jack’s mind. The morning light, brightened by the fresh blanket of white snow Jack had laid down outside, fell across the boy’s face like a gentle caress. Sophie moved quietly to her brother’s side, crawling closer to him on the bed. She did all this cautiously, as if uncertain of how Jamie would react.

“Jamie?” she whispered and gently grasped his shoulder with her small hand.

Jamie’s eyes jolted open and he sat up abruptly, arms coiling around his sister and pulling her close. He scanned his surroundings and then slowly loosened his grip. “Sophie, what time is it?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know,” she said softly, “but I brought hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows.” 

Jack had already set the warm mug on the nightstand and Jamie spotted it easily, but didn’t move to take it. “Sophie, I think we should get out of here today. We have to find our way out of here.”

“Why?” Sophie asked.

“We can’t trust these people,” Jamie whispered, combing his fingers through her unkempt blond hair to eye the injury that was still safely covered by her Barbie band-aid. “We don’t know how we got here or why we’re here either. It isn’t safe, Sophie.”

“But Santa… and Tooth Fairy… and Sandman… and the Easter Bunny… and Jack Frost…” Sophie whispered and turned to look back at Jack. “What about him? Can’t we trust him?”

“Jack Frost?” Jamie repeated with a heavy sigh. “I think that’s just an expression, Sophie.”

The little girl shook her head. “No, he’s real,” she insisted.

Jamie sighed slowly. “Okay,” he relented to his little sister, “he’s real. What makes you think Jack Frost would help us?”

Sophie glanced at Jack again, but then lowered her eyes and admitted, “I don’t know.”

Jack moved to her side, touching her shoulder lightly. “Sophie, he can’t see me unless he believes in me. Can you help him believe?”

Sophie stared at Jack as if he had grown a second head, her eyes wide. “But Jamie believes in everything… even though Daddy says it’s stupid… like fairies…”

“Sophie, who are you talking to?” the boy asked.

“Jack Frost,” she told him.

There was a tug of warmth at Jack’s core and he rained snowflakes down on the two children until the warm feeling grew. Jamie lifted his head, taking in the snowflakes that were suddenly falling from the ceiling of a perfectly warm bedroom. He shook himself, lifting a hand to touch the back of his head, closed his eyes tightly, and opened them again. The snowflakes remained, fluttering gently on a cool breeze.

“I… I must have hit my head harder than I thought… when we fell,” he murmured.

Sophie tilted her head back, catching a flake on her tongue. “It’s Jack Frost, Jamie,” she said gleefully.

Jamie scanned the room, his eyes settling on Jack without appearing to see the winter spirit. “Sophie,” he began.

“He’s really real!” the little girl told her brother. “He fought the Nightmare King and won with a snowball!” 

The young boy eyed her, eyed her injury, and lifted his hand to his head again.

Jack pleaded to deaf ears, “Come on. You believe in everyone else. Just believe in me.” He formed a snowball in his hand and tossed it into Jamie’s lap. Even as the boy watched, the snowball began to quiver, reshaping itself into the lanky figure of Jack himself. Though Jack’s little sculpture was far less stunning than North’s, it appeared to get the point across.

Jamie held the little figurine between his palms and murmured questioningly, “Jack Frost?”

A surge of powerful warmth surged through Jack’s very soul. It was so strong, like a hearth fire compared to the little flickers of belief he felt from his few believers in Burgess, that the feeling nearly drew Jack to his knees. Tears burned in his eyes, but he choked them back because Jamie was turning to face the source of Sophie’s delighted pointing. He made sure to stand straight and tall the moment Jamie’s eyes fell on him, smiling as widely as he possibly could.

But Jamie’s mistrust was not only direct at the others. He drew Sophie close to his chest, pressing her stuff rabbit into her hands. Suspiciously, he asked, “How long have you been standing there without my being able to see you?”

Jack’s expression shattered and he stumbled over his tongue as if he hadn’t spoken for centuries. It wouldn’t be good if he confessed that he had been watching Jamie and Sophie all along, since their arrival with near constant vigil, but he was suddenly unable to find any words to lie. He just stared at Jamie, his lips parted and his eyes wide.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed, his expression stony, but he didn’t speak. 

“Hi,” Jack spit out lamely after far too much silence had passed between them. “Hi, Jamie.” 

“You know my name?” Jamie hissed.

Jack nodded, unable to stop his downward spiral now that he had already screwed up. 

“Why?”

“I’ve been… watching over you,” Jack confessed.

“For how long?” Jamie demanded.

“A while,” he breathed out softly.

Jamie’s fierce gaze narrowed further, drawing Sophie tighter to him.

Why wasn’t this working? Why was it all going so wrong so fast? Jack couldn’t think of anything to say to assuage the glaring young boy. None of the words he had said to sweet Sophie were helping. In fact, they just seemed to be making it all worse. How could the Man in the Moon have sent these children to him? He must have known Jack was bound to screw up again and then the others would—

Bunny would—

Fear charged through Jack’s entire body, so white-hot that it blocked out all the belief he felt flowing into him from Jamie. Suddenly, all he could remember was the Easter Blizzard of ’68. The world was so white and Bunny was so angry and his blood on the fresh snow looked bright and hideous. He remembered the throbbing in his face and wrist, the claw marks on his throat and shoulders, the pain he had yet to grow used to under the joy that he had been seen and touched—he had been _seen_ and _touched_ , even if it hurt so much—oh god, it _hurt!_

This agony echoed hollowly in his chest by something he now knew to be memories from his human life. 

The fear redoubled as if fed, surging wildly through the pounding of Jack’s heart. He could see the little cabin beside the church where he lived with the other orphans and feel his sister gripping his hand tightly. The air in the bedroom was stifling and he could hear someone crying in the night like a dream. He couldn’t hide from what was to come. If he did— _pain!_ All at once, a red-hot wave of agony flashed through Jack’s body, surging from the wound Bunny’s boomerang had left at his temple. He felt warm blood begin to roll down his cool skin.

Jamie’s eyes widened and he looked about to speak, but Jack didn’t give him that chance. 

Without a word, the winter spirit blew from the bedroom in a gust of frigid wind that surely chilled the children to the bone. He sped through the halls of the workshop, tore past Bunny and Sandy, and hurled himself out into the endless whiteness of the snow outside. The North Wind wrapped around him comfortingly and tried to soothe him, but Jack would not be calmed. The weather raged to match his jagged emotions and whipped quickly into a frenzied storm that rattled the windows and made it impossible for the others to follow him.

Jack wasn’t sure he should even bother to return. After all, he had screwed up once again.

…

“Jack’s gone!” Bunny shouted. “The gumbie just flew right out the door!”

North immediately rose to his feet. “The children?”

“I don’t know. Sandy went up to check on them,” Bunny said.

Tooth lurched into the air, buzzing to the nearest window to study the weather outside.

“Whipped up a right nasty storm, he did,” Bunny snarled, “so no one can follow him.”

“Bunny,” North said in attempt to chastise his friend’s growing rage.

“No, North,” Bunny shouted. “He screwed up again! And we don’t have time for this! The children need help!”

“Man in Moon—”

“Is doing nothing!” Bunny shouted. “He never does anything and you know it!”

North looked stricken, unable to speak.

“Bunnymund!” 

Tooth’s voice cut through him like a knife and he whirled to face her, ready to spew more venom, but fell silent when he saw the anger lining her lovely face. This was Toothiana, the warrior queen, proud and cold. (1) Bunny hadn’t seen this side of her in thousands of years and he immediately lowered himself, taking a deep breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbled to her.

“Keep in mind that Jack is a Guardian now and the Man in the Moon created each of us,” she continued sharply. “I know you’re concerned for the children, we all are.” A softness slipped into her voice. “But Jack is but a child himself and he’s been hurt.” Her amethyst eyes flashed. “Especially by you, Bunny.”

Ashamed, Bunny’s ears lowered. “I know,” he murmured.

“Then make an effort to fix it,” Tooth finished firmly. “Understand?”

Bunny nodded.

Then, with a sharp swish of her feathers, Tooth turned back to North. “We need to take care of the children. I’m sure Jack will return on his own in time, but send out the Signal anyway. As a Guardian, he shouldn’t be able to resist returning to answer the call,” she ordered. “It should hurry him.”

North agreed, nodding.

Tooth slid Bunny one final warning look and exited the room to meet Sandy in Jamie and Sophie’s bedroom. Outside, the wind howled and raged with the severity of Jack’s emotions and she prayed that Jack would return to them despite all the suffering he had been through. The children needed him.

…

Jack Frost buried himself into the boughs of a great pine. All around him, the wind and snow danced, whirling in a cyclone all around the tree Jack had taken shelter in. On the horizon, dark snow-bearing clouds loomed like the sails of in attacking fleet of ships. Nestled on his branch, Jack drew his legs tight to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, burying his face into the shelter of his knees and arms. Cold tears burned behind his eyes, but he drew up all that was left of his willpower in an attempt not to let them fall.

A single tear escaped to roll down his cheek freezing just beneath his chin. Jack wiped it away, sucking in a wet rasping breath. He needed to keep it together. He hadn’t cried in more than two hundred years and he didn’t want to break down now. If he did, he feared nothing would ever put him together again. If he started crying now, all the horrors and pains would overwhelm him like the tide of freezing water that had taken his life.

Hiccupping and sniffling, Jack wiped his face again. He took a deep breath that rattled cold deep in his chest and let it out slowly. The North Wind whispered against his cheek, gentle despite the stinging shards of ice that were swept up in its gusts because of Jack’s raucous emotions. Encouraging him, the wind slowly soothed Jack’s wounded heart and soul. The lonely winter spirit began to breathe slowly, the burning in his eyes and the lump in his throat beginning to abate.

It was then that Jack began aware of the little spot of warmth nestled against his belly. For a moment, he remained seated on the branch, perfectly still, trying to decide if this strange feeling of warmth was coming from the new belief that he felt like a hearth fire in his chest or something else entirely. Then, suddenly, the little spot of warmth moved.

With a little undignified yelp, Jack reached into the pocket of his jacket and found Baby Tooth nestled there. She shivered and sneezed, but looked up at him with concerned eyes. Twittering, she snuggled down against the safety of his fingers to hide from the bite of the wind.

“What are you doing, Baby Tooth?” Jack demanded, his voice breaking to ruin the anger he felt at being followed. “How long have you been in my pocket?”

She twittered softly, but Jack couldn’t understand her language. 

He sighed, cupping his hands over her to shield her from the wind and once again focused on calming the raging winter storm around him. Slowly, the wind and sharp hard flakes of snow gentled into a light flurry and soft cool breeze. Then, he opened his hands and looked down at Baby Tooth again. 

“What are you doing out here with me, Baby Tooth?” he asked her.

She lifted a tiny hand to point at the sky without answering Jack’s question.

Jack turned and saw the beautiful lights of the Guardian Signal. The aurora lights danced, swirling through the sky more beautifully than Jack had ever seen. His heart skipped a beat and he felt a soft tugging in the core of his being. Never before had he actually seen the Guardian lights from outside the workshop of the North Pole, never had they been sent out for him, never had he… felt like he belonged with anyone or anything. But those lights—they were calling out to his very center.

“I guess,” he murmured, “I should go back.”

Baby Tooth twittered softly and repressed a tiny shiver. 

“They must want me there if they sent out the lights, right?” he asked her.

She nodded, smiling up at him.

“Alright, Baby,” he said and settled her up on his shoulder. 

She nestled against his neck, tiny fingers tangling in his hair. Jack wrapped his fingers loosely around his staff, took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and stepped into the cool embrace of the wind. Immediately, his long time friend swept him high into the sky. Jack felt that if he reached out, he could touch the aurora borealis dancing just inches from him, but he did no such thing. Smiling, he flew back to North’s workshop and was a little surprised to discover just how far he had gotten from his new home.

He had been trying to run away, but it was time to come back now.

…

Meanwhile, Sandy and Tooth tended Jamie and Sophie. 

After Jack and Sophie’s romp in the snow, Tooth wanted to find the little girl some dry clean clothes and get her a warm bath. (Jack might have been conscious about the chilly weather and snow, but that didn’t necessarily mean he felt it like everyone else did.) Finally, Sophie allowed herself to be peeled off of Jamie with the promise of holding one of Tooth’s little fairies, but it was fine line between giving up her brother and seeing the little fairy up close and personal. Luckily, she was so young and easily distracted and Jamie wanted her to get warmed up.

Sandy stayed with Jamie, seated quietly on the bed beside the young boy. Sometimes, Sandy’s silent presence could encourage even the most closed-off spirit. Even Jack Frost had once spent nearly an hour confessing his troubles to Sandy, tears shining in his eyes. As far as Sandy knew, that was the only time Jack had confided in anyone and it was certainly the only time he had ever let anyone see him cry. But Jamie remained stoically silent beside Sandman on the bed, barely seeming to breathe. Occasionally, Jamie pulled the sleeves of his shirt farther down over his wrists.

Outside, the lights of the aurora glowed beautifully and raging storm began to calm.

X X X

(1) For those of you who don’t know, Toothiana is Tooth’s full name. She’s the Queen of the Tooth Fairy Armies and if you look up her back story from the Guardians of Childhood novels, she’s really badass and sad. Check it out if you can find the time!

Questions, comments, concerns?


	10. The Knife that Builds Trust

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to DarkInuFan, Goshikku, and Sheeijan. Thanks for leaving such awesome reviews after each chapter!

X X X

North was sitting in the kitchen, large hands cupped around a mug of cocoa that he couldn’t bring himself to drink. The elves were peeking over the edge of the table, debating whether or not they could get to the plate of cookies that lay untouched in front of North without being caught. They were about to make an attempt when a cool breeze announced Jack’s return and wiped away all thoughts of cookies.

North turned immediately, a concerned smile pulling up his lips. “Jack,” he said.

The spirit-boy lowered his blue eyes, ashamed. “I’m sorry I ran out,” he murmured.

North got to his feet, abandoning his cookies and cocoa to the eagerly-waiting elves, and moved to encompass Jack in his big arms. Jack did not shy away from the big Russian’s bear hug, closing his eyes and resting his face against North’s broad shoulder. Relief filled him. 

“Welcome back,” North said. “Need a cookie?”

Jack shook his head, casting a glance behind North at the elves feasting on said tray. “No, thanks,” he said. His mouth worked for a moment with no sound coming out until he closed his lips tightly. Jack’s throat flashed as he swallowed, as he breathed, his pulse hammering blue under the thin white skin.

“Jack,” North murmured. “What happened?”

“I got Jamie to believe in me,” Jack said quietly, lowering his face so that the expression in his eyes was hidden behind his hair. 

“That is wonderful news!” North boomed, clapping Jack on the back.

Jack shook his head. “No, I… I screwed up again, North! He believes in me, but he doesn’t trust me.” He paused and then said dejectedly, “I blew it!” Jack voice rose, filling with self-loathing. “Again! I just keep screwing up! That’s all I’m good at!”

Baby Tooth pressed against his cheek, nuzzling against his cool skin. She chirped softly.

North waited for Jack to finish screaming himself out before gently tucking his fingers beneath Jack’s chin and encouraging the boy to look at him. Jack’s eyes sparkled, but no tears threatened to fall. That gaze was so broken, so shattered, like a loving pet that had been beaten by a cruel master too many times and wasn’t sure if it should ever trust again but always would no matter how many times they would be struck down. How many times in his three hundred years of loneliness had Jack done just that in his desperate attempt for someone—anyone—to see him? 

“Jack,” North murmured. “It is alright. All can be fixed.”

Jack sucked in a shuddering breath.

North smiled. “You can fix, yes? You can help these children, yes? Man in Moon chose you, did he not?”

Jack wet his lips. “Yeah…”

“So, what do you need to fix this?” North asked. 

In the hallway outside the kitchen, Jack suddenly heard heavy footsteps. Bunny was approaching! Fear crossed Jack’s face and his eyes flew to the window, mapping out an escape route should Bunny attempt to attack him again. Jack didn’t realize he had started to back up until he felt North tugging his wrist gingerly to keep him from backing against the wall. That look was in his beautiful eyes again.

“It is alright, Jack,” North assured the boy.

“Tooth and Sandy are sorting the kids out, mate,” Bunny called as he entered the kitchen, speaking to North. He probably thought—maybe even hoped—that Jack had run away for good.

When he spotted Jack, he froze and a surge of a million emotions flashed through his spring-green eyes—anger, a thread of respectful fear, frustration, worry, a trace of regret and sorrow, concern, pain, more anger that bordered on white-hot rage. Jack tightened his grip on his staff, knuckles whitening. His heart began to pound and his mouth went dry. The wound at his temple from Bunny’s boomerang throbbed with fresh agony.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke or moved. They just stared at each other. Jack looked ready to bolt at the slightest threat, the urge to flee practically vibrating his slender body. Bunny’s whiskers twitched on either side of his mouth, whirling as he searched for the words to say, but all he wanted to do was scream at Jack. Even through his anger, Bunny could see that Jack was inches from running again and that the winter child looked terrified.

“Jack. Bunny.” North’s voice broke the spell that had been cast over the room. 

Bunny looked sharply away, moving to the window without saying anything to Jack. For a long moment, he studied the heavy drifts of snow that had piled up during Jack’s flight and it occurred to him just how powerful this little lonely spirit was. Jack could probably thrash him to take revenge for Bunny’s beating after the Blizzard of ‘68, but the boy never had. 

On the horizon, storm clouds brewed. Thunder rumbled and lighting flashed.

“Jack,” North said again. 

Jack tore his wary eyes from Bunny’s back to meet North’s gaze.

“What do you need to help the children?”

Jack wet his lips and thought for a moment, hating to call on his memories but understanding now why the children had been sent to him rather than knowledgeable North or gentle Tooth. “I need… a doll and a box of band-aids and… a knife…”

Though North looked concerned, he bent to speak to the elves. The little creatures’ eyes widened and several of them scurried quickly from the kitchen, bells jingling manically in their haste to gather a doll and some band-aids from the yetis.

“What do you plan on doing with stuff like that?” Bunny broke in. His voice was a little harder than he had expected and he cleared his throat.

Jack glanced at Bunny, but didn’t say anything to explain himself. He glanced at North and the Russian gestured to the butcher’s block on the counter where the knives were kept. Countless ingredients for stew had been laid out on the counter, surely waiting for either a yeti or North to begin cooking. Jack reached over the potatoes and carrots to select a knife. Experimentally, he chopped a few potatoes until he found the sharpest knife in the block. He took the rest of the knives he had soiled, rinsed them off, and put them back in the block.

Then, he pressed the blade of the knife into the heart line on his palm, curled his fingers over the metal tightly, closed his eyes, and then cut himself. Bright blood flowed quickly, dripping between Jack’s fingers like frozen rubies. The boy winced as he dug the sharp blade in a little deeper.

“Jack!” North shouted in alarm, his voice shaking the rafters.

Baby Tooth launched herself from his shoulder, buzzing around his head in a fit of protestant twittering. Jack waved her away, the air around him going chill. Startled, Baby Tooth quickly flew away. She didn’t want to risk Jack losing control and feeling bad for hurting her again.

“Blimey!” Bunny shouted, scrambling to yank the knife away from Jack. “What are you doing, ya gumby?” 

Jack took a few steps away from Bunny, keeping his injured hand out of the Pooka’s line of sight. The bleeding began to slow, rubies welling up on Jack’s pale pearly flesh, before the blood froze even more effectively than a scab, but the injury was still jagged and painful-looking. “I’m going to help Jamie,” was all he said to his fellow Guardians.

“How?” Bunny demanded.

“By hurting yourself?” North asked softly.

Jack reached for the knife again, intending to wash it off and put it back in the butcher’s block, but it must have looked like he intended to hurt himself again because Bunny held the blade out of Jack’s reach and the concern marring North’s face deepened. 

“First, explain yourself,” Bunny snapped. “What are you thinking?”

Jack slid away from Bunny, scrutinizing the wound on his hand silently.

North put his hand on Jack’s shoulder, steering his attention away from the knife. “Jack, please, do begin explaining.”

Jack sighed, curling his fingers over the wound. “Okay, I know you guys haven’t spent a lot of time with kids in the past three hundred years, but it’s basic understanding here. Jamie isn’t going to talk to me because, as far as he’s concerned, he and Sophie are the vulnerable ones here. If he tells me all their problems, he’ll be even more vulnerable, but,” he explained, “if I’m hurt and he helps me, things will even out. He’ll be more willing to talk to me.”

North stroked his beard, eyeing Jack’s hand. He didn’t want to admit that Jack was right (especially when it involved Jack hurting himself) but the boy did have a point. “Is true,” he said finally.

“What?” Bunny shouted at them, waving his paws dangerously with the knife still gripped in one. “You’re both out of your freaking minds!”

“It’s just a cut,” Jack put in, tucking his hand safely into the pocket of his jacket and out of their sight. “It isn’t going to kill me.”

“That isn’t the point, mate!” Bunny said firmly, whirling on Jack with the knife still in his grasp. The blade sliced the air between them, glistening brightly with Jack’s red blood. “You can’t just be cutting on your body like that!”

Jack lifted his hand to the wound on his temple where Bunny’s boomerang had struck him the day before. His pale eyes narrowed fiercely but with great mistrust and anguish. “But you can hurt me, can’t you, Bunny?” the boy hissed.

Bunny was unable to speak. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He suddenly became aware of the knife still gripped in his paw and pointed, quivering, right at Jack’s midsection. 

“You wanted me to help the children and I will.” Jack’s voice was like ice and he rolled his hands into fists. Fresh blood seeped between his fingers when his nails gouged into the injury in his palm. Tendrils of frost spread beneath his bare feet, crackling into small spires of stabbing ice that raged towards Bunny with otherworldly purpose. “But the Man in the Moon didn’t bring them to you. He brought them to me and I think I know a lot more about this than you do!” 

There was something terrible about the way he said that. Volumes of agony and horror were bottled up in Jack’s voice, spiraling around his heart like barbed wire to both protect and further tear him apart. His eyes flashed with all the might of any winter storm, but that animalistic expression lurked beyond the anger. Jack’s soul was cracking to pieces in the depths of his eyes.

An elf appeared in the threshold of the kitchen, chattering nervously when he saw the wild ice of Jack’s unbridled power spreading angrily through the kitchen towards Bunny.

Jack abruptly let the wind lift him off his feet, yanking his hood up over his head and his sleeve down over his bleeding hand. He snatched up his staff, the wood knocking loudly on the floor. He blew past Bunny and North, grabbed the doll and band-aids from the elf, and was gone. The door slammed in his wake, leaving the others in stunned silence. 

“This?” Bunny murmured to North.

North didn’t have an answer.

…

Earlier, Tooth led Sophie down the hall from North’s spare rooms to one of the many bathrooms in the workshop. The little girl’s fingers were cold and her feet probably weren’t much better off so the Fairy Queen drew the little girl a warm bath. Tooth added some scented salts and bubbles, something she had a fondness for in her own youth and still had trouble turning down now. Her little fairies gathered on the edge of the tub, looking down into the water with curiosity. 

“Better be careful now,” Tooth warned them. 

“Careful of what?” Sophie asked, studying the little fairy perched on her finger.

“The rims of these old porcelain bathtubs are slippery,” Tooth explained. 

No sooner had she finished speaking when one of the little fairies lost her footing and slipped into the sudsy water with a muted splash. The fairy surfaced quickly in a flurry of flapping iridescent wings and chirping. Bubbles and warm water droplets flew everywhere. The fairy flew up to Tooth’s face, chirping irritably. 

“I warned you,” Tooth said to the sodden creature. “You won’t get any sympathy from me.”

Sophie giggled.

Deflated, the soaked fairy went to perch on the faucet of the tub.

“Well,” Tooth said as she turned her attention back to Sophie. “I think I can safely say that the water temperature is perfect. Go ahead and get in.”

The fairy Sophie had been holding fluttered away to perch with the others and the little girl gripped her shirt with both hands. “But… I’m still wearing all my clothes.”

“You can take them off,” Tooth said, smiling warmly. “It’s alright.”

Sophie bit her lip and shook her head. 

Tooth was about to ask the little girl what was wrong when there was a light knock at the door. If the lack of footsteps was any indication, Jack Frost had returned and Tooth’s heart soared. Instead of pressing Sophie further, Tooth slid the little girl a smile, told her to enjoy the bath, and slipped out into the hall with Jack. 

“Welcome back, Jack. Did you see the lights? Sophie just stepped into the bath and Jamie’s still in his room,” Tooth told him, still smiling. When Jack didn’t answer immediately, she studied him closely. He had been acting so strangely lately and it was really starting to worry her. 

Baby Tooth was hovering nearby, looking as concerned as Tooth felt.

Jack’s face was paler than usual and he had pulled off the band-aid Tooth had put over the injury at his temple from Bunny’s boomerang. The wound was still long and jagged, clotted darkly with dried frozen blood. It looked dark and ugly against so much pale skin and hair, like a bruise. He had a pretty Barbie doll in a flowing dress tucked into the crook of his elbow, a box of band-aids in one hand, and his staff in the other. There was a sort of pain in the set of his wrist, in the way his fingers curled.

“Jack?” Tooth whispered and reached out to touch him.

He jolted, shying away.

“Jack, what’s wrong?” she asked. 

“Nothing,” he murmured.

“Look at me,” she pleaded.

He lifted his head slowly and his eyes were like those of an animal’s. That expression—pleading, agony, fear, begging—was in his gaze once again. Outside, snow had piled up and the dark storm clouds drew ever closer to the workshop like a black tide.

Tooth nearly gasped, but managed to stifle it. “Oh, Jack, what happened?”

“I… I screwed up again,” he murmured.

“What happened?” she asked him gently. She wanted so badly to reach out and envelope him in an embrace, but she knew he would only shy away again.

“I finally got Jamie to believe in me—to see me—and then I screwed up. That’s… that’s why I left…”

Tooth nodded softly, smoothing back her feathers. 

“Did you send out the lights for me? To call me back?”

“Yes, Jack,” she said. “I knew you’d come back if you saw them, if you knew you were needed. You’d never turn your back on anyone.”

Jack bit his lip.

“What else happened?” Tooth asked, sensing that he was still hiding something from her.

“I cut myself,” he confessed, “and Bunny and North got upset with me.”

“You cut yourself…?” she breathed, glancing at Baby Tooth. “On purpose…?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, to help Jamie,” and then he told Tooth his plan.

“Oh Jack,” she said softly. “Don’t you think there was a better way than this?”

But he shook his head. “Not really, not on such short notice,” he said. “We don’t have time to go about this the usual way, do we?” 

And Tooth couldn’t deny that, but she was still upset by Jack’s injury. 

She gently took his hand between her small palms and was surprised to find that Jack’s hand was nearly the same size as hers. Having feminine hands with long thin fingers and the diminutive stature of a hummingbird, Tooth was used to being the smallest Guardian, but now she realized that Jack was just as thin as she was, if not more so. She could have wrapped her arms around his narrow waist twice and his wrists were just as narrow as hers with the bones jutting out in an unhealthy manner from starvation during his short human years. Surely the rest of his body looked the same beneath his baggy sweatshirt if the narrowness of his legs and wrists were any indication. Jack was merely taller than Tooth, but thinner and in this moment, he looked devastatingly fragile with his eyes lowered and those two injuries standing out.

What had made him seem so strong when he was really so young and innocent and thin?

Tooth’s amethyst eyes welled with tears as she cradled Jack’s hand. Her fingertips were as soft as feathers as she gently stroked his wrist and the sides of his palm. His skin was cool, but as soft as living velvet, dusted with frost in places as if to create the illusion of muscle around his grievously slender wrists. “Oh Jack,” she breathed out, her voice breaking.

“Tooth?” he asked and tried to draw his hand away when he realized she had noticed the thick layer of frost disguising the thinness of his wrist. 

Tooth let him pull away, hiding his hands behind his back. “Nothing,” she sniffled. “It’s nothing. Why don’t you go talk to Jamie alone while Sophie’s in the bath? I’ll stay here in case she needs anything or in case…” She trailed off, studying Jack as he drew himself up proud and strong. “In case you…” But she still couldn’t finish.

Smiling thinly at her, Jack lifted into the air and flew off down the hall.

Once she was alone, Tooth finally choked out, “In case you need anything, Jack.”

…

Jack knocked on Jamie’s bedroom door and waited patiently for a call to enter. For a long moment, Jack didn’t think Jamie would ever answer, but Jamie must have realized that whoever had knocked was actually waiting for him to come to the door because the young boy pulled it open a moment later and peered out. 

When he laid eyes on Jack, Jamie snapped, “What do you want?”

Jack uncurled his fingers, revealing the ugly wound on his palm that was still bleeding sluggishly. 

Jamie winced when he saw it, but didn’t shrink back from the sight of blood as most children would have.

“Can you help me?” Jack asked the boy softly. 

Jamie eyed him. “Why don’t you ask one of the others to help you? Like the Easter Bunny?”

The stricken expression that crossed Jack’s face just then wasn’t all for show. He didn’t want Bunny anywhere near any vulnerable part of his body until the Pooka calmed down. Jack wouldn’t risk being hurt further by Bunny and a flicker of fear crossed his features.

Jamie’s hard eyes softened slightly. “How’d that happen?” he asked.

“Knife,” Jack told the boy.

“Someone cut you?” Jamie asked, his voice as thin and fragile as paper.

Jack shook his head. “It was just an accident, but…”

Jamie opened the door, peering cautiously at the deserted hallway. “Come in. Let me see that,” he offered.

Grateful and relieved, Jack slipped into the bedroom and followed Jamie to the desk beside the window. He set down the doll and box of band-aids, watching closely as Jamie retrieved the glass of water from the nightstand where Sandy had left it. The boy rolled up his sleeves and gently dripped some into Jack’s hand. The water froze upon contact with Jack’s skin. The crystals of ice shimmered beautifully, tinged pink with blood.

“Cool,” Jamie breathed.

Jack smiled. “Yeah, the Spirit of Winter, at your service.”

“Does everything freeze when it touches you?” Jamie asked curiously.

“Only sometimes,” Jack explained, “like when I’m hurt.”

Jamie grabbed a box of tissues and began gently patting the cut. After a little bit, Jack loosened his grip on his powers, willing the frozen water and blood to melt and Jamie was able to wipe the injury off. Content, that it was as clean as it would be when all water that touched Jack froze, Jamie selected a large band-aid from the box and pasted it over Jack’s palm. His touch was gentle and cautious as he smoothed down the bandage, speaking volumes of tending far too many injuries.

“Thanks,” Jack said, curling his fingers to test it.

“You should be careful,” Jamie told him in that too adult voice. “Knives are dangerous.”

“I know,” he murmured.

Gently, Jack closed his grip over Jamie’s fingers and tugged the boy’s hands lightly. Bruises stood out on Jamie’s wrists, circling them like bracelets, and Jack saw the impressions of fingers carved into the boy’s pale skin. Jamie’s eyes widened desperately and he quickly pulled away, tugging his long sleeves down over his wrists again to hide the bruises.

“It’s nothing,” he choked out. “I—”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Jack interrupted gently.

Jamie’s eyes were wide and filled with so much suffering that it made Jack’s chest tighten. The young boy wrapped his arms around his small body tightly, palms rubbing his upper arms in something resembling comfort. Sometimes, one’s own touch was the only comfort there was—no one knew that better than Jack during his three hundred years of abandonment. Then his memories returned and now touch seemed… The winter spirit spread his hands, offering whatever shelter he could present to Jamie even if his slender body couldn’t provide much.

“But you can, if you want,” Jack continued softly.

A single tear slipped down Jamie’s cheek, but he didn’t speak. Jack could practically see the words burning through Jamie’s pale skin. _‘If you tell anyone, I’ll…’_

Suddenly, all Jack wanted was to give Jamie empty promises of safety and shelter, to promise that no one would ever hurt or touch him again, but it was impossible to promise something like that and he didn’t want to risk breaking Jamie’s fragile trust in him by saying such. Children were far smarter than adults gave them credit for and they often knew too much about how cruel the world could be.

Instead, Jack merely whispered, “Jamie.”

But the boy shook his head. Jack looked away, giving Jamie a moment to pull himself together back into the strong brother he so obviously wished to portray, but Jamie did no such thing. A few more tears slipped down the boy’s cheeks as he padded quietly closer to Jack. The winter spirit looked up, meeting Jamie’s dark eyes when the boy was only a few steps away, close enough to reach out and touch him. Silent tears slid down Jamie’s face as he stared at Jack, his lower lip quivering with the effort to hold back ragged sobs that wished to escape.

“You know…” Jamie whispered something Jack couldn’t understand, the words too garbled by tears and pain. “…don’t you?”

Jack only nodded, his heart shattering for this child.

For a moment, Jamie just gazed at Jack, crying quietly. Then, he reached out and collapsed into Jack, wrapping his arms tightly around Jack’s cold body. The boy began to sob openly, clutching Jack like a lifeline, and Jack just held him while he cried. Sobs wracked Jamie’s small body and Jack could feel the bumps and crags of bruises beneath the boy’s shirt as he stroked his trembling back comfortingly. He hushed the child, rocking him slightly, and Jamie snuggled closer as if he wished to crawl inside of Jack where he was safe from his own fears.

For the longest time, Jack merely held Jamie, humming a song the North Wind had taught him. Jamie clung to him like an anchor in a great storm until he had cried himself out completely and fell into an exhausted sleep. Jack stroked the boy’s hair long after Jamie had fallen asleep, gazing out the window at the storm clouds assembling on the horizon, unwilling to let the child go. Rage and anguish had built up into a stone in Jack’s chest, beating there like a second heart. 

How dare anyone—!

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

I love my reviewers!


	11. On the Doll

I'm beat. My weekend felt far too long.

X X X

Jack had just tucked Jamie down against the pillows when there was a light knock at the door. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and was shocked to see just how much time had passed. He had spent a lot of time just holding and comforting Jamie while the boy cried silently, far longer than Tooth had needed to let Sophie take a bath and get the little girl into clean clothes. He made a mental note to thank her for her patience and kindness.

Jack ran a hand over his face, hoping the redness in his eyes didn’t betray his emotions. “Come on in,” he called.

Sure enough, Tooth entered the room with a smile, holding Sophie by the hand. 

“Jack!” the little girl shouted, releasing Tooth’s hand to barrel up to the winter sprite. “Jack! Look what the yetis made me!” She spun for his approval, showing off the lovely Sleeping Beauty princess dress complete with tiara and winter scarf. “It’s so pretty! I love it!”

“It’s beautiful, Princess Sophie,” Jack said and swept himself into a low bow.

She giggled cheerfully and gave Jack a wobbling curtsey in return. 

Jack turned to Tooth and met her eyes, nodding slightly to assure her that he had everything under control and he’d like some time alone with the siblings. The Tooth Fairy nodded in return, called goodbye to the Sophie, and left with a flutter of wings and a swish of feathers.

Jack picked Sophie up and set her on the bed beside the sleeping Jamie. “I have something for you too, Sophie,” he told the little girl.

Her face split into a beautiful smile. “Really?”

“Really,” Jack said, but the word tasted bitter on his tongue. He wished he could just take these two precious children far away from all of this. He wished he could protect them forever. He wished he didn’t have to get them to tell him all the horrors of their young lives, but… if he was going to help them, he had to be certain, but no—he was already certain… All he had to know the extent of their suffering. He picked up the beautiful doll and the box of band-aids from the desk where Jamie had dressed the wound on his hand. “She’s for you.”

For a long moment, Sophie hesitated, unwilling to accept the lovely princess doll. It was incredibly unfortunate that she and the doll were wearing the same dress. The yetis had probably thought they were helping to make the little girl happy by letting her dress like the doll Jack planned to give her, but they hadn’t known what the winter sprite had planned. Finally, Sophie accepted the doll, but her grip on it was white-knuckled. She looked down at the bed she was seated on, at her brother sleeping peacefully beside her, and then back into Jack’s face.

The winter spirit forced himself to smile reassuringly. “Do you like her?”

“Pretty,” Sophie whispered despite how she must have felt. Her voice was too adult, like when she had denied the existence of elves and fairies even when they were right in front of her and she obviously desperately wanted to believe. “Thank you.”

Jack set the box of band-aids down beside the little girl and then sat next to her on the bed. “Do you like dolls, Sophie?” he asked softly.

She glanced at Jack and then back at her brother as if there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. Or maybe those words echoed on Sophie’s heart too. _‘If you tell anyone, I’ll…’_

“You can tell me,” Jack encouraged.

Sophie stared at the doll in her hands and then took a band-aid out of the box. “Daddy doesn’t let me have dolls,” she whispered, staring at the band-aid.

“Why not?”

Sophie didn’t answer, but slowly tore open the band-aid and pasted it onto the dolls dress, wrapping it tightly around her middle. 

“Does he let Jamie have dolls?” 

“After… sometimes…”

“After what?” Jack whispered and the words tasted like bile.

“After the basement,” Sophie said. She opened another band-aid and pasted it over the doll’s wrist. A second bandage covered the other already.

“Does your dad ever let you have dolls, Sophie?”

The little girl bit her lip hard and a ragged sound escaped her throat. She tightened her grip on the doll’s pretty dress, the same dress she was wearing. Tears welled in her eyes and she pulled at the beautiful dress she had been so happy with earlier. 

“Sophie?” Jack whispered.

Sophie didn’t answer. Instead she ripped the doll’s dress off and stared at the naked plastic shell. The only band-aids that remained were the ones she had put over the doll’s wrists. Now, she added more, tearing open the packages in a frenzy and covering the doll’s face and torso completely with bandages. The doll’s lower half remained exposed when Sophie stopped, sobbing raggedly.

“Sophie?”

“Only after,” Sophie choked out. 

“After the basement?” Jack breathed out. He wanted to cry for her, to scream, to shout, to fly off and unleash all the fury on winter on whoever had dared harm her, but right now… she needed him. And he’d have to be there for her. He had to be the strong one. “Sophie?”

The little girl didn’t answer, merely cried.

Jack didn’t reach to touch her. “Sophie, can you show me?”

She lifted her head, tears rolling down her cheeks and shining on her throat. “Show?” she choked out.

Jack nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. “Can you show me on the doll?”

Sophie swallowed, fear growing in her eyes. “I can’t,” she sobbed. “He’ll—”

Jack grasped her hand, holding it tightly but loose enough that she could pull away whenever she wished. “He won’t,” he told her. “I’ll protect you and Jamie. He won’t be able to hurt you if you just show me.”

Hiccupping, her tears coming harder, Sophie took three band-aids from the box. First, she pasted two on either of the doll’s thighs. Then, she took the third and slid it between the doll’s legs, bandaging a place that could never truly be bandaged. She showed Jack, gripping the doll by her long lovely hair, and then threw the doll across the room. It spun and landed beside the beautiful princess dress in ruin, coated in bandages that did nothing to heal.

Sophie buried her face in her hands, sobbing, choking on the words that poured out of her. “Jamie says it’s… wrong for him to… do it to me… in the basement… Sometimes… Daddy takes him instead… And after he… always gets a doll to give to me… I like to… make them feel better… to cover them in band-aids… To make them feel better…”

Jack gently touched her shoulder and she pulled away. 

“No,” she whimpered. “Don’t…”

“Sophie,” Jack whispered.

The little girl didn’t answer, just continued to cry into her hands helplessly. Jack held his hand out to her without trying to touch her, hoping to offer whatever comfort he could give. After a moment, Sophie accepted his hand, hugging it close and sobbing twice as hard. 

Behind Jack on the bed, Jamie began to stir. He moaned softly as he came into wakefulness, his hands tightening in the sheets and rustling in the ruined packaging of so many opened band-aids. Jamie sat up, blinking blearily, and rubbed his sore eyes. Tear-tracks still marked his cheeks even if all his bruises were safely covered. He looked at Jack for a moment and then his gaze slid to Sophie’s trembling back and the beautiful princess dress she wore. Terrible pain crossed the young boy’s face.

“Soph,” Jamie whispered.

“Jamie,” Sophie murmured. She turned to face her brother, tears glittering on her face. She tugged at Jack’s hand as she crawled across the bed to Jamie and didn’t release his fingers even as Jamie enveloped her in his arms.

“Hey, Soph,” Jamie whispered. 

For a long time, the little girl remained crumpled between Jamie and Jack, gripping a little piece of each of them. Jamie met Jack’s eyes and fresh tears welled in the boy’s gaze. It took all Jack had to wrap his arms around both of them and hold them close without the floodgates of his own agony tearing loose. He cradled the two children to him, holding them as tightly as he could, and wished that he had the power to stop these things from ever happening. 

…

After Sophie fell asleep between Jack and Jamie, the winter spirit carefully untangled himself from her grasp. He laid her down against the pillows, cuddled protectively in Jamie’s embrace. He covered both children in a thick quilt and stacked the fire warmly in the grate even though the closeness of the heat made him dizzy. Then, he scooped up the discarded doll, redressed it to the best of his ability, and gathered up the unused band-aids and the trash. Taking all of this with him, he gazed at the children at the threshold of the door before quietly bowing out.

It was only then that Jamie’s eyes opened from his pretend sleep. He sat up in the warm bed and brushed some of Sophie pale hair out of her face though some strands stuck to the tears that still lingered on her face. The wound at her temple was beginning to heal, but Jamie was haunted by his failure to protect her regardless.

He climbed out of bed and went to the window, staring out at the vast whiteness of the North Pole. Distantly, he could see the forest where he had Sophie had been spirited away on a wild sled ride to the relative safety of Santa’s workshop.

But Jamie still didn’t understand how he had gotten here with Sophie. He remembered being home, angering his parents, and then trying to protect Sophie to no avail. He remembered her getting hurt and there was so much blood. All he could think to do at the time was get her out of there because if he didn’t, his father might kill her. He remembered grabbing his winter coat and wrapping her in it, he remembered stumbling out into the snowy day, and he remembered running down the streets of his small town. 

Did he beg for help? Did he cry out as he ran? He couldn’t remember that.

He remembered running to the park with Sophie clutched in his arms. Sophie liked to go there and play on the swings even when it was too dark or too cold. It was s shelter for them, a tiny safety in their dangerous world. He remembered looking at the frozen pond, remembered looking up at the sky, remembered feeling the bite of the cold winter wind on his exposed skin, and remembered Sophie’s shuddering warmth in his arms. 

Did he wish for help? Did he cry? He couldn’t remember.

He remembered sitting down at the edge of the frozen pond with Sophie in his lap. He remembered stroking back her hair as he often did in lieu of their mother’s comforting touch and trying to examine the wound in her forehead. There was so much blood and she was still bleeding. He remembered watching tears leak beneath her lids, remembered her little voice whispering his name in pain, and remembered her trusting him to fix everything and make it better. He was her big brother, after all.

Did he break down? Did he scream? He couldn’t remember what happened after that.

All he remembered was looking up at the moon. It was hanging there in the winter sky even though it was daytime, a little sliver that was almost like a smile. He knew there was a scientific reason for the moon to be visible during the day—he had read about it in one of his books, but he wasn’t able to remember that reason then or now. All Jamie remembered was being in the park, clutching Sophie, and looking up at the moon. 

Maybe he wished someone would save him and his little sister. Maybe he wished for a hero. Maybe he did, but he couldn’t remember.

All he remembered was a moment later, without apparent rhyme or reason, he was in the snowy woods and night was falling. He remember hearing wolves howling and he remembered being afraid for Sophie. He remembered carrying her, trying to find his way out of the woods because he knew she needed help. He remembered the cold and then he remembered sliding like he was on a wild sled ride. He had always liked to play in the snow, but his mother told him it was a foolish and stupid childish thing.

Did he scream? Was it in delight or terror? He couldn’t remember that.

Then, he saw Santa and the yetis and the elves. He remembered the shock and horror that maybe he had hit his head to hard and lost his mind. He remembered worrying that maybe he was already dead, maybe Sophie was too. But none of that mattered—it was quickly forgotten. He remembered asking for help for Sophie because she was still bleeding. Then, Santa was helping them and Jamie remembered nothing but relief when he was told his little sister would be alright. He had protected her after all.

Then, there was nothing but darkness when unconsciousness greedily took Jamie. 

When he woke up afterwards, he remembered feeling like someone was watching over him. Now, he realized that it must have been Jack Frost—invisible to Jamie for his lack of belief. He remembered meeting the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus and the Sandman. He remembered feeling happier than he had in a long time, but he still didn’t feel safe. Fear breathed down his neck, chilling him to his very core. 

But then, he had learned of Jack Frost and even helped the spirit with his injured hand. Though he hadn’t actually said anything to the spirit of winter, Jamie felt that ever-present fear abate. That was strange because talking to Jack should have intensified his terror. He might have told someone and that meant—! 

_‘If you tell anyone, I’ll…’_

But Jamie hadn’t actually said anything and he had the feeling that Jack understood everything Jamie was going through. The way Jack’s eyes shifted and his expression paled made Jamie think that maybe Jack felt that fear too. Jack even understood was Sophie was going through, helping her to tell him without ever really saying anything.

_‘If you tell anyone, I’ll…’_

Jamie shivered, staring out the window at the snowy wonderland beyond. He saw a window open and Jack Frost flew out into the sky. He looked like a bird, his body being tossed about on the wind easily. Jamie thought that it would be nice to fly. 

Then, he returned to Sophie’s side and lay beside her. He was tired. He was always tired and he welcomed the arms of sleep gratefully, especially when he saw tendrils of Sandman’s golden sand peeking beneath the door. 

…

Tooth paced the Globe Room, a horde of small fairies following in her wake. It had been nearly two hours since she had returned Sophie to Jack’s care and Jamie’s side. She knew Jack was trying to get the children’s stories out of them, trying to find out what he could, but so much time had passed. She was starting to worry.

Bunny and North were talking in the other room, their voices fading in and out as Bunny shouted and North tried to calm him. Bunny was ripped up—caught between anger, frustration, and concern—over how Jack had carved up his own body like it was nothing out of the ordinary. North didn’t want to defend what Jack had done, but nothing he was saying assuaged Bunny.

Tooth had just decided that she was only going to give Jack ten more minutes before she went up and checked on him when Sandy floated in. He raised a question mark over his head, scrutinizing Tooth’s worried flight pattern. Baby Tooth and several other tiny fairies flew up to the Sandman, buzzing around his head like a miniature blue and green tornado. Sandy swept beneath them and went to Tooth’s side, gently touching her hand.

“Sandy,” she confessed. “I’m worried.”

He formed the symbol on the Guardian handbook. ‘We’re all worried,’ the silent man signed. 

Tooth sighed heavily, running her hand over the crest of her feathers. “I know, Sandy. I just wish there was something I could do to help Jack, to help the children, but the Man in the Moon… I wish there was something I could do.”

‘Drink eggnog.’ The little golden sand sculptures danced over Sandy’s head drunkenly and he grinned at her thinly.

Tooth giggled softly, but shook her head. “I don’t think that would make me feel any better.”

Sandy shrugged, moving to the counter to chose a cookie from the vast plate that had been put out of the elves’ reach (not that they weren’t still trying to get to it, sneakily biding their time hiding around the corner until no one was looking). It was then that Tooth noticed Sandy set down a lovely doll in a princess gown. It looked like the same doll Jack had brought upstairs to Sophie after her bath. Only now, the doll’s pretty face was obscured by band-aids and much of her dress had been covered in them.

Tooth picked up the doll, turning it over in her hands. “Wasn’t this the doll Jack brought up to Sophie? Where did you find it, Sandy?”

Sandy nibbled his cookie as he gestured, ‘He gave it to me upstairs before he left.’

Tooth’s heart stopped. “He left?” she breathed out. Then, her voice rose to a shout, “What do you mean he left? Why didn’t you stop him?”

Sandy didn’t answer her immediately, his bright golden eyes going sad. ‘Jack’s dreams lately have been… dark,’ Sandman signed to Tooth finally. ‘I think he needs to sort something out for himself before he tries to help the children so I let him go. I think you should let him have some time alone, too. He’s used to being alone.’

Tooth breathed out hard, hissing between her perfect teeth, and began to pace again. “But Sandy,” she protested. 

Sandy help up a hand, selecting another cookie. ‘Jack will come back,’ he assured her. ‘He will always come back to the people who need him. He’s not the kind of person to abandon anyone in need.’ 

And Sandy didn’t tell her how Jack would help anyone, even a perfect stranger, even at the greatest cost to himself. He had seen the boy sacrifice time and again for children that couldn’t even see him. He had watched the boy break over and over throughout his lonely three hundred years of immortal life. He had seen Jack shred himself to pieces for little more than a look or a fleeting touch. But Sandy didn’t tell her about what he had seen in Jack’s dreams—no, his nightmares—just the night before. 

‘Jack will come back,’ Sandy assured Tooth and that was the only thing he was certain of.

…

After that, Sandy finished off a few more cookies and convinced a few of Tooth’s fairies to enjoy some even if he couldn’t talk Tooth into eating or drinking anything. He patted the Tooth Fairy on the shoulder and floated out of the room, intending to do what he could to cool the heated tempers of Bunny and North in the other room. (While Sandy and Tooth had been talking quietly, all diplomatic efforts on North’s part had disappeared. He and Bunny were just shouting at each other now, as if whoever could defend his position louder was correct.)

Tooth smiled thinly, wishing her silent friend luck. Then, she stared at the doll in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the many band-aids that coated the once-beautiful princess. Most children used their toys to portray a part of themselves and for a little girl’s doll to look like this… she must have been suffering far more than anyone had suspected. 

Baby Tooth came to perch on her shoulder, chirping softly.

“I know, Baby,” Tooth said gently and stroked the fairy’s little head. 

Then, Tooth realized that the Velcro of the doll’s dress had been sloppily fastened so that some of the doll’s naked back was visible between the halves of the dress. More band-aids were visible beneath the fabric of the dress. Heart pounding, Tooth unfastened the dress and the Velcro sounded like the doll’s very core was being ripped open. The doll’s torso had been swathed in bandages, just like her face and the outside of her dress, but then Tooth saw it. 

Band-aids had been wrapped around the doll’s thighs and crotch.

Abruptly, the naked plastic doll fell from Tooth’s hands and clattered on the hardwood floor. Her heart stopped and her mouth went dry as she watched it roll to a stop a few feet away. The doll lay there on the floor, naked, one painted blue eye peering up through the mess of band-aids accusingly, the corner of her grinning red mouth just barely visible. It looked like it should have been bleeding, like it was a corpse of a murder victim. It stared at Tooth, haunting and broken even though it had no conscious from which to conjure such feelings.

In that moment, Tooth felt how Jack must have been feeling. Her emotions became a cage to trap her heart, her fear for the children was stifling, and the pain from her human life that she thought she had forgotten suddenly overwhelmed her. 

She had to get out of here! If she didn’t, she might just break!

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

Phew, review for me so I don't start a new story! (I'm getting more ideas and the plot bunnies need to be corralled.)


	12. A Fear that Shouldn't Exist

It's going to be a rough day. I already got called in to work for breakfast and possibly a lunch shift. I'm tired...

X X X

It was a rare moment for the Nightmare King. He stood among the dense pine trees of the forest surrounding Burgess and just enjoyed being out of the shadows for a little while. How long had his own Fearlings held him captive in the world beneath the bed? How long had he been trapped by the thorny web of his own fears, tortured and tormented by his own horrors? How long had it been since he had seen the sun or the Man in the Moon? The moonlight falling over him was so refreshing, the night air kissing his face, the stars twinkling mockingly at the fallen Boogeyman. 

The ground was frozen and dusted with fresh powder over the inches of older snow beneath. The trees were coated with a thin layer of snow that hung on the branches like a loving touch, draped there like decorations. Beautiful fernlike patterns of frost caressed everything until it all looked like something that belonged in a fairytale. Winter had been beautiful lately, shimmering in the light as if care had been poured into every single flake. Unwillingly, Pitch found his mind wandering with thoughts of his daughter as he gazed at the many trees surrounding him.

He had heard that the Man in the Moon’s parents had gifted her with the powers of nature after Pitch had been possessed by thousands of Nightmares and turned into the Nightmare King, but he had never seen Seraphina after her transformation. Occasionally, he thought he felt her presence—still loving and kind despite what her father had been turned into—but he was never certain. It didn’t seem right for her to see him like this and he wasn’t even sure he wanted her to. Maybe she knew that and watched over from a distance, quiet as a breath of air or a butterfly’s wings. (1)

Pitch ran his hand down the beautifully frosted bark of a nearby pine, smiling crookedly to himself as he studied the fernlike patterns. The world really was lovely with its many emotions and people and animals and all the spirits that brought new seasons and joy. He had almost forgotten that after being trapped in fear and darkness for so long. He was beginning to think it was all he would ever know, all he could ever hope to know. He was beginning to forget memories he had once treasured until all he knew was rage and fear, but now… the moonlight was so breathtaking…

Suddenly, a gust of cold North Wind whipped overhead, disturbing the delicate blanket of snow that lay across the tree’s branches. The snow came down on top of Pitch, freezing him and breaking the strange mood he was in. Only one person immediately came to mind as he brushed snow and ice off himself, scouring the wind’s embrace for the trickster child himself—Jack Frost!

He scanned the dark sky overhead, clouds blotting out the stars in uneven patches while moonlight illuminated the rest of the world with watchful brilliance that shimmered on the snow. For a moment, though he saw the visible swirl of snowflakes on the North Wind, he did not see Jack Frost. 

That wasn’t possible though. Winter here was too beautiful, made with the tenderness of someone who had little else to care for and no other way of communicating his loneliness. Jack Frost must be nearby, his very presence adding a beauty to winter that had been around for three hundred long years. Poor lonely little spirit boy—this time, Pitch would make him pay!

The Nightmare King swept through the forest, darting from shadow to shadow even though it hurt to extend the last reserves of his power so quickly. He had been in the dark too long without the fear of children to sustain him and now his powers were depleted almost beyond his ability to do anything. If he was smart, he would save these reserves for when he came across the frost child and try to catch the boy by surprise, but Pitch’s emotions were too raw right now. All he wanted was to get to the winter spirit!

Soon enough, Pitch saw the blue little circle of Jack Frost’s frozen pond. It was strange and pathetic how the boy’s only true home was the place that had taken his life so long ago. Who on earth took comfort in the sight of their own grave?

Pitch tasted emotion in the cold air. There was a trace of fear, mostly pain, and jagged loneliness buried beneath childish joy that was and always would be Jack Frost.

The little tendril of fear soothed Pitch’s ragged nerves like the first drag on a cigarette. More addictive than anything else, the Boogeyman inhaled that smoky delightful flavor. He calmed as he breathed the flavor deeply into his lungs. Suddenly, a chill spread through him that had nothing to do with the biting night air or lingering fears.

Pitch tasted something that didn’t belong, even in the depths of Jack Frost’s fears. 

_‘If you tell anyone, I’ll…’_

Contrary to the spoiled Guardians’ belief, fear was not inherently bad even if Pitch made it seem that way in his desperate quest to be seen, feared, and believed in. Fear was often protection. It was counsel. It made people cautious and wary, careful and safe. Fear was necessary. 

But the Man in the Moon and Pitch Black both recognized that some fears should not exist no matter the reason. Wives should not fear their husbands who were to honor, love, and cherish them. Sisters should not fear brothers who should have been there to guide and shelter them. Children should not fear their parents who were supposed to love and protect them, to guide them through childhood and into adulthood so that they might do the same someday.

Children were never to fear their parents.

_‘If you tell anyone, I’ll…’_

Pitch’s shadow carved through the moonlight as he approached the frozen pond. His footsteps crunched loudly through the snow and ice, no attempt at stealth. Then, the Nightmare King saw the youngest Guardian. Jack Frost was standing in the middle of his frozen lake, staff clutched to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around himself as if his body was breaking apart. Though he trembled, Pitch could not tell if he was crying. For a moment, Pitch just watched the boy, watched his back tremble, watched him breaking.

Then, he spoke, “Jack Frost.”

The boy turned sharply. His eyes were red-rimmed, but if he had been crying, all trace of it had been wiped from his cheeks. He gripped his staff tightly, but the threat of him was diminished by the shaking of his hands. “Pitch,” he breathed. “What do you want?”

Pitch didn’t answer, instead voicing a question of his own. “Does the Man in the Moon ever answer you, Jack?”

The winter child flinched, his eyes wandering desperately to the moon, and that was answer enough.

“I didn’t think so,” Pitch continued. “He rarely answers anyone.”

Jack’s fingers convulsed on his staff, frost fanning up the surface of the little stick. “What do you want, Pitch? Why are you here?”

“I thought I smelled a touch of fear.”

Jack tensed. “Are you planning something again?”

Despite himself, Pitch said, “No.”

Silence spread between the two. It wasn’t a companionable silence and it was as thin and fragile as ice, but it was there never the less. Jack remained on his frozen pond and Pitch stood on the edge. Both looked up at the Man in the Moon—Jack was pleading for answers, but Pitch understood the silence.

“You know, a lot of things changed in three hundred years,” the Nightmare King said after a long moment. “There used to be a little cabin in these woods, next to a white church, but they’re all in ruins now. All those people are dead, I suppose.”

Jack tensed, his blue eyes sharp as he eyed Pitch.

“There were a lot of children in the cabin next to the church. They were orphans, I suppose,” Pitch continued. “I used to get a delectable amount of fear from that little cabin and the church as well, but there was also a near-constant stream of belief too. An older child must have told them stories. They must have been a good power source for everyone, those orphans.”

Jack shifted on the surface of his pond, more ice fanning beneath his feet. His fear spiked and Pitch drank it in greedily, starved after so long in the shadows beneath the bed. After a moment, he composed himself and stopped feeding like a desperate animal.

Those words lurked in Jack’s fear. _‘If you tell anyone, I’ll…’_

“You were still human, then,” Pitch murmured, “weren’t you? Do you know what I’m talking about? Do you remember?”

Jack flinched. 

Almost kindly, Pitch continued, “I was there was the man who ran the church died. The orphans’ fear diminished, becoming only fear of drowning. They learned to swim that summer and then that fear was gone too.” The Nightmare King eyed the surface of the pond and then stepped out onto it.

Jack made a soft sound, clinging to his staff like the child he was as Pitch approached. 

The Nightmare King was soon close enough to reach out and touch the lonely spirit, but he did not. “Jack,” he said instead. “No child should ever fear their parents. They should not have to fear any adult who had vowed to take care of them.”

Jack lifted his eyes, meeting Pitch’s gaze. When he took in Pitch’s soft expression, the knowing look in his golden eyes, jagged fear poured out of the boy. “You… you can’t know,” he choked out. “I haven’t…!”

Pitch did reach out then and his hand was burning hot on Jack’s freezing skin. The boy flinched, but did not pull away. He wavered, torn between greedily leaning into the touch he had craved for centuries and pulling away because this touch came from his enemy. But Jack was unable to do either. His fear immobilized him, but the contact with Pitch both lessened and increased it until no coherent thought remained inside Jack’s skull. The frost child’s fear flowed into Pitch, potent and strong, but thick and bitter with its contents. 

Children should never have to fear their parents.

_‘If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you!’_

Jack fled from Pitch’s touch the moment his senses returned through the haze of fear and panic. He pulled away, gripping his staff tightly, and stumbled a few steps. For the first time in centuries, the snowy surroundings seemed to be working against the winter sprite rather than aiding him. His bare feet skidded and slipped on the frozen surface of the pond, unable to find a foothold. Even the wind suddenly had difficulty buoying up the thin child. He found himself unable to grip its current just as his feet couldn’t find purchase on the ice.

A fresh wave of fear ran through Jack as he stared at the frozen water below him. With a painful-sounding thud, the boy lost all sense of balance and fell hard on his back. Winded, he stared up at the moon for a moment before recalling that Pitch was still here, watching him with a strange and pained emotion in his golden eyes. Again, Jack scrambled away from the Nightmare King, using his staff as a point to steady himself on the ice. Frost spread beneath his feet, just as beautiful as ever. Abruptly, the grace and ease that Jack usually possessed returned to the frost child.

He skated easily to the edge of the pond, stepping into the thick snow drifts ringing the edge. He gasped in a deep breath, his face pale with fear as he whirled one final time to look at Pitch. The Boogeyman had not followed the frost child, neither to help or to hinder. He was still standing in the center of the pond. Then, the wind coiled around Jack and lifted him into the air. Swiftly, like a snowflake that had melted in the warmth of someone’s palm, Jack Frost was gone.

…

Tooth arrived in Burgess, Pennsylvania—the small town beside the pond where Jack Frost had been born over three hundred years ago—hoping to find the winter spirit. Instead, she only found Pitch Black. The Boogeyman was standing at the pond’s center, his face upturned to the moon and his features twisted as if he tasted something bitter.

She landed softly, but her wings bristled with anger and concern. If Pitch had dared to attack Jack now, when the boy was so fragile, when he had only just become a guardian, she would unleash all her power on the Nightmare King and make him wish he had never even breathed Jack’s name. She moved closer, her eyes narrowing.

She saw Pitch’s golden eyes dart and knew he had seen her, but he lifted his gaze back to the moon and didn’t otherwise move. “Hello, Toothiana,” Pitch called without so much as blinking. “Come to kick a man when he’s down?”

Tooth didn’t want Pitch to know about the children in the North Pole or about Jack’s troubles, but she hadn’t planned on running into him for another millennium and had no ready excuse for coming to the frozen pond. She merely watched him without speaking, her eyes scanning the surroundings for signs of Jack.

“I’ll save you the trouble,” Pitch said plainly. “Jack Frost has already left this little grave that he calls home.”

Tooth’s wings lifted, her lips pulling up into a snarl, but Pitch interrupted her. 

“I didn’t touch your precious little frost child. I merely spoke to him about the past and he went on his way,” Pitch continued. “He was filled with the strangest fear. I don’t remember tasting it on him until recently, not until after our little tiff and his memories were returned to him, I believe. Tell me, Toothiana, do you look at the memories of every child?”

“No,” she bit out, expecting Pitch to have something nasty up his sleeve. “I don’t.”

“Maybe you should,” he said and there was no malice in those words. It was an honest statement and a pained one that immediately took the anger from Tooth’s wings.

“What do you mean?” she whispered.

Pitch glanced at her and then sighed heavily, looking down at the thick ice beneath his feet. It seemed strange to think that Jack had died a few mere inches beneath his slippers. Jack Frost was the only spirit to experience the pain and horror of death, even though the Man in the Moon had relieved him of his memory of it for three hundred years. Even so, all people and even spirits feared death. Why, even the immortal Guardians and Pitch himself still held that mortal fear of death in the depths of souls, but Jack no longer did. Much darker fears haunted that child.

“You of all people know how powerful memories are. The past shapes the future,” Pitch said. 

“Not always,” Tooth broke in.

“But most of the time,” Pitch told her. “Why, if I didn’t fear the way my parents abandoned me, I might never have opened the door to the NightMare Prison when I heard my daughter’s voice inside.”

Tooth gasped quietly, her small fingers pressing to her mouth. Not many spirits knew the truth of how the King of Nightmares had been born and Pitch probably never would have told the chatty Tooth Fairy if not for the strange mood he was in and the fear he had tasted on Jack.

“Pitch,” Tooth began, but he waved his hand to silence her.

“Didn’t you ever wonder, Toothiana, why Jack knew nothing of his past?” Pitch asked. “You remember yours, don’t you? Even I remember mine. Certainly even North’s many stupid elves remember their lives as brigands and fools. But Jack knew nothing of his past until he retrieved those memories from his teeth.” 

Pitch eyed her as he spoke, gauging her reactions to what he said. The wheels were slowly grinding to life in the Tooth Fairy’s head as she absorbed Pitch’s words. Tooth might not always understand the dynamics of fear, but she was far from stupid. 

“Don’t you wonder why the Man in the Moon took that child’s memories when he made Jack into a spirit? Did you ever look at the teeth you received from Jack when he was human? Certainly they weren’t worthy of the gifts your fairies leave behind for children.”

Tooth’s breath caught in her chest, rattling there like a bird that had become trapped against a pane of glass with the open sky just on the other side. Her heartbeat shuddered, battering against the barrier of glass and her own concern. 

Pitch passed a hand through his hair and laughed hoarsely. “You know nothing of Jack’s true fear, do you?” His voice wavered in and out as if the wind was blowing it but the air was hauntingly still. “I bet you barely suspected.”

Tooth whirled to face Pitch, but the King of Nightmares had vanished into the shadows of the forest. She flew in the direction she had last seen him, bobbing and weaving through the trees in her hopes to catch up with him. What did he know about Jack? 

Ahead of her, Pitch laughed again and spoke, but the words were too garbled by distance for her to make out. She tucked her head lower, wings beating in time with the rapid rataplan of her heart, and pushed herself to the limits of her speed. 

Again, Pitch’s laugh rang through her like a physical touch. Tooth stopped abruptly, her feet sinking in the snow as she looked this way and that for Pitch. She shouted his name threateningly, but didn’t really think he would show himself once again. She took a step forward, intending to take flight and return to her search for Jack. But her foot caught on something beneath the layer of ice and snow. She dropped to her knees, digging through the snow with her hands until she could barely feel them, but she grew no closer to whatever had been buried here. 

Whatever was beneath the snow and ice had been purposefully and densely frozen solid. She could barely make out the shape of beams and stones through the ice, as if part of a ruined cabin lay beneath. Biting her lip, Tooth straightened and looked up at the moon. She could feel the signature of Jack’s powers. Why had he frozen this little area solid the same way he always froze the little pond that had taken his life? Did he think the ice and snow would protect him?

But Tooth pushed these thoughts aside along with the ideas Pitch had planted into her mind. She had to find Jack and try to help Jamie and Sophie. That was the most important thing right now, but… her mind kept returning unwillingly to the thoughts of Jack’s memory box.

What had Pitch meant by what he had said?

Why should she start looking at all the children’s memories?

Why had the Man in the Moon taken Jack’s memories of his human life when he had taken no one else’s?

And why had he said that Jack’s teeth were unworthy of the gifts Tooth’s fairies left behind? Jack’s teeth were beautiful, sparkling like freshly fallen snow. Surely, his baby teeth were just the same.

But these questions and many others all darted and danced through Tooth’s mind. Her mind returned to the bandaged doll, to Jack’s pleading eyes and his wild powers fueled by his fears, and to the fact that these two children had been brought to Jack. There was something very wrong with Sophie and Jamie and for Jack to be the best one to help them, for Jack to have the best understanding of how to help them… Tooth didn’t want to consider the implications that became incredibly apparent when all these things were put side by side.

X X X

(1) Pitch (aka Kozmotis Pitchiner) was actually once a good guy charged with watching over the imprisoned Fearlings, but he was tricked when the creatures used his daughter’s voice to lure him in. He was then devoured and turned into the Nightmare King. His daughter was turned into Mother Nature and it’s fuzzy on whether her name is really Seraphina because the author of the books stated it once, but now no one can confirm it so I’m just going to stick with it.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	13. Of Families and Fairytales

Okay, I’m back! I couldn’t make it yesterday because something came up at my work and I wound up being there all day. By the time I got home, I was dead tired and just crashed.

X X X

Jack didn’t know what guided him through the moonlit streets of Burgess. Maybe it was the Man in the Moon or maybe it was Pitch Black or maybe something else entirely, but he somehow found himself standing outside of a small and unassuming house. There were no toys in the yard and no snowmen either, but the windows were curtained and the inside glowed with warm amber light. He wasn’t sure what made him stop outside that house, frozen. 

At his back, enjoying the crisp night, two teenage girls walked their dogs together. Their breath plumed on the night air, breathy with conversation. Both dogs studied Jack as they passed and the frost spirit gave them a little finger wave and hoped they wouldn’t decide to chase him. Though the girls didn’t pause to look at the house as Jack had, their conversation turned away from the upcoming Winter Formal to the unassuming colonial house.

“You know, I didn’t have to sit for the Bennetts Friday night,” the first girl said. Her long hair swung in a braid at her back, swishing like the pendulum of a clock.

“Really? They always go out Friday night,” the second girl said. “My parents told me that it’s how they keep their marriage fresh.”

“Ew,” the first girl squealed, but continued a moment later. “They didn’t even call me to ask for Saturday or anything.”

“Maybe the kids are sick,” the second girl offered with a shrug. 

The first girl sighed. “I hope not,” she said. “I actually like to sit for the Bennetts. Jamie and Sophie are so quiet and well-behaved. All they want is for me to read them some stories and let them eat popcorn. Then, they get right into bed and sleep like angels. It’s such easy money.”

“We both know you always need the money,” the second girl said with a laugh.

Her friend scooped some snow off a bush beside the sidewalk and tossed it into the second girl’s face. “So what if I’m addicted to books?”

The second girl said something as the pair diminished around the corner of the block laughing, but Jack couldn’t hear it over the pounding of his heart. Jamie and Sophie… No, this wasn’t possible. The world was so huge! What were the chances that Jamie and Sophie had come from Burgess and that Jack had wandered right to their house? The odds were astronomical, but… there was one way he could be certain this wasn’t just a fluke. Maybe inside the quaint little house, two happy children sat on the rug with their parents. Maybe the family was watching a movie together. Maybe they were eating ice cream. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

Jack approached the front window as if pulled by an invisible string, peering into the house. His breath turned to frost on the glass. 

Inside, he could see two adults seated on the couch together, watching a movie filled with laughter and innuendos. The man had his arm around the woman’s shoulders and he fed her pieces of popcorn while she tipped her head back in delight. On the table behind the back of the couch, Jack could see a family photograph, but the light fell on the glass and prevented him from making out if Jamie and Sophie were in the image.

Letting the wind lift him, Jack peeked in several other windows until he found one that was unlocked. It led to the attic and he stepped into the musty space, coughing quietly even though he knew the adults wouldn’t be able to hear him. He was quiet on the off chance that this wasn’t Jamie and Sophie’s home, holding out for his frail hope. 

The stairs squeaked from disuse beneath Jack’s slight weight as he descended and turned the cold knob of the attic door. A waft of warm air scented with apples and popcorn washed over Jack as he exited the attic and eased the door closed behind him. He padded down the hall, peeking to a bathroom and the adults’ bedroom as he passed.

Then, he found a little girl’s room. The walls were painted a pale sunflower yellow and hand-painted butterflies hung on the walls. Their pink wings quivered softly as if alive even though they were merely paper mache. There was a princess castle beside the bed on the floor, but no princess was in sight. Instead, a mangled sort of over-stuffed teddy bear sat beside the pillow. Its eyes had been crossed out and its mouth had been carved into a frown with marker. Jack throat went dry as he tried to convince himself this wasn’t Sophie’s room.

He scurried out, making his way further down the hallway. He opened the last door on a boy’s room. A dragon hung over the bed, breathing fabric fire. Hand-drawn posters lined the walls and many toys made out of paper and cardboard were spread across the desk. Books lined the shelf over the bed, orderly in the face of the chaotic projects littering the room. Jack smiled softly as he ran his fingers over a pancake box robot with a soup can for a head. Eyes and a grinning mouth had been drawn over chicken noodles.

On a hunch, Jack selected a book from the shelf. The spine was worn and the dust jacket was torn in a few places but had been lovingly taped back together. It was a much loved book and whoever loved it so would certainly want it returned should it be lost. Inside the cover, ‘Jamie Bennett’ had been written.

Jack slid the book back onto the shelf, hope warring with what he knew to be true. He opened the nightstand drawer and found a box of band-aids inside. The box was half-empty and there was a bloodied fingerprint the size of a child’s thumb on the flap. 

The winter child flew hurriedly from the room, frost blooming in his wake. He descended the staircase to the first floor where he had seen the adults watching television. He wanted a better look at that family photograph even though he didn’t need any more proof. For a moment, only his own panicked reflection stared back at him on the glass of the frame. Jack prodded it with his staff, banishing the harried image of his own face. 

Sure enough, Jamie and Sophie stared back at him from the photograph even though they were both a few years younger than they were now. Sophie might have been one, toddling beside Jamie. Behind them, a lovely brown-haired woman stood with one hand on each of their shoulders, but her face was pinched with an emotion Jack didn’t understand. Was that sadness? Or disgust? She held the children close, but her nails were painted the color of blood on their shoulders.

Jack turned away from the photograph, his staff catching the edge of the frame and knocking it over with a crash. The couple on the couch jumped and Jack recognized the woman as the one in the photo. Her face had aged, the expression merely surprised.

“Shit,” the man swore. 

“How’d that happen?” she asked and quickly hurried to right the shattered frame. 

As she lifted it, a second photograph fell from behind the first. The woman was standing in it, holding a baby in her arms and smiling joyfully. At her side, a man in a military uniform smiled with so much happiness. His hat had been dropped over young Jamie’s head, the brim dipping down over the child’s eyes but he looked happy none the less. Quickly, the brown-haired woman hid the photograph and brought the ruined frame to the kitchen.

The man strode after her and when the light fell across his face, Jack saw that it was not the same man he had seen in the quickly-hidden photograph. Families had changed a lot since Jack had been part of one, but fairy tales had always been around. 

Now, Jack breathed out, “Step-father,” and his blue eyes narrowed.

The woman was hiding photographs of her previous husband, but the fact that she still cared enough to keep them made Jack believe she must have lost him to unfortunate circumstances rather than gotten a divorce. And while no new husband wanted to see photographs of the last one shoved in his face, for her to have to hide them was unacceptable. Something was very wrong in this house.

The warm air of the house dropped low as rage and pain built within Jack Frost’s heart. Frost spread beneath his feet but melted weakly in the heat of the house.

The woman shivered as she discarded the broken glass. 

The man cursed again, looking around. “Did you leave a damn window open?” he demanded.

She shook her head, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the window, but Jack was the only one who reacted to it. He whirled and saw Tooth on the other side of the glass. She mouthed something, but he couldn’t hear her through the glass or over the pounding of his own heart. Jack whirled towards her, ripped open the window with a crash, and hurled himself out into the night. At his back, he heard the man curse again and the woman shriek, but he didn’t turn back. 

He couldn’t.

He grabbed Tooth’s hand and pulled her into the sky with him. Tooth could fly under her own power easily, but Jack required the help of the North Wind. Now, the wind buoyed him like an old friend, cradling Jack’s slender body carefully. It took Tooth a moment to realize she didn’t need to beat her wings to stay aloft and merely held Jack’s hand and let the wind carry her like a leaf. It was strange, but invigorating. Then, she looked over at the winter sprite.

“Jack?” she whispered.

He started, glancing at her worriedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Tooth said. “I… I found the doll you gave Sophie. It was covering in band-aids, especially her lower body and her face…”

Jack looked away, his eyes distant and pained.

“Jack, do you know what happened to those children? Do you know why they were brought to you?”

Jerkily, he nodded. 

“Are they… being abused?” she whispered.

He chewed the corner of his mouth, but his silence was enough of an answer.

“How long have you known?” she breathed.

“Since I found them in the woods,” he confessed.

Tooth let out a ragged breath. “How?”

He wouldn’t meet her inquisitive gaze. 

“Jack?” she whispered.

“I’ll explain when I tell the others, okay, Tooth?”

“And when are you going to tell them?” she asked.

Jack wet his lips, realized he was still holding her hand, and released it.

“Jack, when?”

“As soon as we get back to the North Pole,” he told her.

Tooth let silence spread between them as the wind carried them back to the Pole. The cold began to seep into her and she tried her best not to shiver as she flew at Jack’s side. How could Jack have lived in this cold his entire life? It didn’t seem possible that such a gentle beautiful spirit could be so ignored and so hurt for centuries and still be so kind and warm. She glanced over at him again, but didn’t voice the question that was practically burning a hole through her heart.

How did he know about Jamie and Sophie? What secrets lurked in Jack’s memories, in his past, and in his teeth?

…

Little under an hour later, Jack and Tooth touched down outside the front doors of North’s workshop. Tooth stumbled for a moment, trying to adjust from the lightness of being carried by the wind to flying under her own power again. Jack steadied her, his hand icy cold on her arm.

“Thanks,” she said.

He only nodded and breathed in deeply before pushing open the doors after a moment of hesitation. For so long, Jack had been forbidden from entering the workshop and he still sometimes snuck in through a window just to be certain he was still welcome. Warm air flowed over Tooth and she shivered gratefully, closing the doors behind them. Together, they made their way through the foyer into what often served as the living room.

Sure enough, North and Bunny were seated on the couch, watching over Sophie and Jamie who were seated in front of the massive fireplace. Sandy was sleeping peacefully in an overstuffed armchair, snoring very quietly. Jamie was reading to his little sister and her eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared at the pictures and tried to make out the words her brother read. Even so, both children looked sharply up when Jack and Tooth entered.

“Jack!” Sophie shouted. She bolted to her feet and ran to him, throwing her little arms around whatever of Jack’s legs she could reach. She giggled quietly as she buried her face into his thigh, clinging to him tightly. “Jack, you’re back!”

Sandy jolted from his nap, smiling when he saw Sophie clinging to Jack and Jamie not that far behind. The children had been quiet, reserved, while Bunny and North watched over then and Sandy was happy to see them acting like children again.

“I am,” Jack said, leaning down to embrace her properly. “Did you miss me that much?” 

In silent answer, she nestled into his arms like she belonged there, content and sheltered. Her lips pulled into a happy little smile and her small hands fisted in Jack’s blue sweater. 

Jamie was quieter in his approach but just as eager, murmuring softly, “Hi Jack.”

“Hey Jamie,” Jack breathed out. 

He laid his staff aside and opened his free arm to the boy as well. Jamie hesitated a moment, casting a glance at Bunny’s narrowed green eyes, but even the Easter Bunny’s glare couldn’t stifle Jamie’s desire to be held and protected. He joined Sophie in Jack’s embrace, burying his face into the winter sprite’s cool neck. He recognized these arms and hands as the cool phantom touch that had soothed away his nightmares the day before. 

Jack hitched his arm beneath Sophie’s legs and lifted her slowly so she could adjust her grip around his neck. She snuggled deeper into his embrace as he did the same for Jamie with his other arm. Holding both children seemed an impossible feat for a scrawny boy like Jack. 

Bunny almost shouted for him to be careful, that if he dropped them he was dead meat, but he bit his tongue when Tooth slid him a glare. With considerable effort, he softened his gaze.

“Let me get these two off to bed,” Jack said to his fellow Guardians, cradling both children with surprising ease. “Then I’ll come down and explain everything, okay?”

“Alright, Jack,” North said gently. He rose to his feet, stepping over elves as he approached Jack. “Take time, alright? No rush.”

Jack’s eyes welled with grateful tears and it took all he had to swallow the lump in his throat. Suddenly, it seemed like a very long time since he had heard North’s voice. “T-thanks,” he whispered.

The big Russian smiled. “I fetch cocoa and cookies until then, yes?”

Sophie giggled against Jack’s chest.

“Not for you, cookie monster,” North boomed with a laugh and gave Sophie’s back a little tickle. “Little girl is addicted to sugar cookies.”

Jack smiled wider, all traces of fear washing from his expression. “Thanks North,” he said again.

North patted Jack on the back and the warmth of his gentle touch almost sent Jack to his knees. Before he could break down further, he let the wind lift him into the air and swooped upstairs to the children’s room. Jamie and Sophie squirmed in his arms, turning their heads to watch the workshop flash by.

“W-we’re flying,” Jamie breathed.

“Like Peter Pan!” Sophie cheered.

Jack smiled broadly, whirling through the air in a series of loop-de-loops and corkscrews that had both children screaming in delight. It was every child’s dream to fly and Jack had always wanted to grant that wish but had never had the chance, being invisible and untouchable all these centuries. All to soon though, his feet touched down on the hardwood floor outside their room. He set Jamie down so he could open the door, but kept Sophie cradled in his embrace.

He brought them inside and found a golden swirl of Sandy’s best dreams waiting for them and a warm fire crackling in the grate. Jack ushered the children through a nighttime routine he barely remembered from his human years. He helped Sophie brush her teeth, got them each a little drink of water that he cooled with a mere touch, and encouraged them both to use the bathroom before tucking them into the large bed. He smoothed out the covers as Sandy’s dreams danced overhead.

“Jamie,” he whispered as the boy began to nod off. “Do you have a step-father?”

Jamie’s face paled even as the dream began to pull him in. He nodded timidly and murmured, “Yeah.”

“But you call him ‘Dad,’ don’t you?”

The little boy nodded again, his eyes wide with fear.

“What happened to your father?” Jack asked softly, smoothing his hand over Jamie’s hair.

“He died,” Jamie breathed out, “in the war.”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” Jack whispered.

Jamie wet his lips and cried quietly, “It’s not… Mom’s fault…”

“Does she know?” Jack asked.

Jamie nodded slowly, tears sliding down his cheeks. “But…”

Jack hushed the child, running his hand through Jamie’s hair gently. For a moment, the boy struggled against both the dream and the soft comforting touch, but he as too tired to resist the pull for long. His eyes slid closed and Jack gently smoothed the heavy quilt over the children’s sleeping forms. He tucked Sophie’s stuffed bunny into her arms securely.

Then, he took a deep breath to steady his ragged nerves. The night sky beyond the window was inviting, but he couldn’t run anymore nor could he enact his own revenge on the children’s parents. He had to tell the others what he knew. He might even have to tell them how he knew it, but he hoped he could keep that secret to himself forever. But to help these children, he would tell them no matter what it made them think of him. 

And there was no time like the present.

…

While Jack was upstairs with the children, Tooth sent one of her little fairies through Bunny’s hole to the Tooth Palace in Southeast Asia to fetch Jack’s memory box. She wasn’t going to look at his memories, having already sworn to let Jack tell them of his secrets and pain in his own time, but she had to know what Pitch Black had meant about his teeth being unfit for her gifts. If she didn’t find out, she thought her head might explode. 

Though Bunny hovered at her elbow, eager to see what she was hiding and why she had asked to used one of his holes, she lifted her wings like a shield and opened the box to study the teeth inside. Nestled in the purple velvet where twenty tiny teeth that had once belonged to Jackson “Jack Frost” Overland. For a moment, she stared uncomprehendingly at the teeth.

First off, they were bloodier than most of the teeth the Tooth Fairies collected from children. Most teeth were rinsed off by parents and tucked beneath pillows, but Jack’s teeth were quite gory. But that wasn’t the worst thing she realized about the frost spirit’s baby teeth. A little less than half of Jack’s teeth were perfect primary teeth, rinsed clean and nestled like pearls against the purple velvet interior of the cylinder. The rest were jagged and broken. 

Tooth’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t often see children’s teeth that had been broken this badly. A few chipped ones here and there from children who played a little too rough and a little too fast or weren’t as careful as they should have been. But more than half of Jack’s teeth had been shattered beyond repair. 

“What is it?” Bunny asked, putting a furry paw on Tooth’s wings and pushing them down so he could see what made her gasp.

Abruptly, she slammed the lid shut on the memory box. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s nothing.”

Bunny’s eyes narrowed. “Were you looking at Frostbite’s memories?”

“No,” she said venomously. “I promised that I wouldn’t and I never break my word.”

Bunny’s lip curled. “What’s your problem? What did I do, Tooth?”

She took a deep breath and let it out, her grip on Jack’s box tightening. “Nothing,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, Bunny.”

North entered the living room just then with a large tray of cookies and mugs of cocoa that practically overflowed with marshmallows. He had always believed that the edge could be taken off of any problem with food and he was clearly trying hard to prove that now. He hoped that maybe the sweets would help Jack relax. Now, he took in Tooth’s downturned face and Bunny’s puzzled expression and asked, “What is wrong?”

But before Bunny could tell North about how Tooth was hiding Jack’s memory box behind her long feathers or Tooth could explain why she had them, Jack blew into the room. His grasped his staff from where Tooth had leaned it against the wall to await his return and wrapped his hands nervously around it. 

“Okay,” he began quietly.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


	14. The Worst Truth

I'm not going to burst everyone's bubble...

X X X

“Wait, wait,” North interrupted Jack gently. “Let us sit down and get comfortable.” He brandished his tray of sweets like a weapon that could banish all traces of suffering and worry from the frost child’s face. “I have plenty of cocoa and cookies.”

Because North was staring at him expectantly, Jack accepted a cookie and nibbled on it nervously as North herded everyone into the living room. He pulled the coffee table closer to the couch, brushed the selection of books and toys littering it into a neat pile, and set the tray down on top. Then, he guided Tooth into a corner of the couch where there was a mound of pillows for her and her fairies to settle into, pushed Bunny down at the opposite end, and sat himself down contentedly between them in case he had to do anything to stop Bunny or console Tooth. Sandy sat down on an overstuffed armchair close to the fire, palming his mug of cocoa. Jack remained standing, his hands wrapped nervously around his staff and his half-eaten cookie.

For a long moment, he stared at his friends, unable to speak.

“Jack?” Tooth ventured.

He jolted and turned to look at her, taking in all the eyes of her small fairies and Baby Tooth watching him. He cleared his throat and wet his lips. “Um, Tooth?” he asked.

She tilted her head, smiling. “Yes?”

“How old are your fairies?” he asked.

Puzzled, she glanced at her fairies and spoke to them in their private language for a moment. Then, she turned back to Jack. “Most of them are around five hundred years old,” (1) she said affectionately and stroked the pale green feathers of one. “Why?”

Jack wet his lips. “Are you sure you want them to hear this?”

Tooth’s eyes widened and she glanced from Jack to the tiny fairies and back again. Then, with a few words, she sent most of them out, allowing only Baby Tooth to remain at her side. Tears had gathered in the corners of her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away and drew herself up regally. “Thank you, Jack,” she said softly.

Jack nodded slowly, his eyes pale and haunted.

Sandy reached out, gently touching Jack’s shoulder and gesturing slowly, ‘That bad, huh?’

The boy inhaled a shuddering breath. “Maybe,” he whispered. “I don’t know…” Then, Jack turned away and sat down in the other overstuffed armchair across from Sandy. He drew his legs tight into the chair with him, tucking his arms around his staff and pulling the sleeves of his hooded sweatshirt down over his hands. It was an insecurities move, timid and fragile, and the wound from Bunny’s boomerang stood out darkly against his pale hair. 

“Okay,” he began again, but his throat constricted over the words he wanted to say. Maybe it would be best if he tried to tell his fellow Guardians what he had always suspected, but now knew to be true gently. Maybe he should ease them into it with thinly-veiled references. Or maybe he should just spit it out and tell them as quickly as he could like ripping off a band-aid. He wet his lips nervously, his eyes moving from one face to another. 

North, Tooth, and Sandy all wore different mingled expressions of patience and concern.

Bunny had folded his arms across his chest—probably more angry about how closely North was watching him than anything having to do with Jack telling them about the children. His green eyes were narrowed, but not focused on Jack. He glared a hole through the fireplace, through the dancing flames. 

In fact, Bunny was actually trying to ignore the guilt and concern that had built up inside his chest like a seed with no more space to grow rather than actually frustrated with the winter sprite. The wound on Jack’s head was standing out like an accusing finger that just wouldn’t stop pointing at him, wouldn’t stop reminding him of how much he had screwed up with the lonely winter child. When Jack had been desperately seeking attention and covered Easter in his best snow, Bunny had beaten him senseless and now this.  
The Pooka breathed out hard, unaware that Jack was looking at him. 

Even so, the irritated expression on Bunny’s face encouraged Jack to just get this over with. The sooner he told them, the sooner they could help Jamie and Sophie, and the sooner everyone could go back to their normal lives.

“Jamie and Sophie are being abused at home,” Jack said quickly, the words spilling out one after another without lingering long enough to give power to the terrible things he said. “Mainly by their step-father, but their mother isn’t protecting them either and that’s just as bad.”

Jack sucked in a breath, having spoken too quickly, and then started again. “Sophie’s being sexually abused at the very least. Jamie’s back and arms are covered in bruises and sometimes he takes Sophie’s place to protect her.” Though he had settled into the armchair, he quickly flew around the room, gathering the bandaged doll he had given to Sophie. “Look.”

But Jack didn’t stop there either, even when North’s blue eyes widened in horror as he looked at the doll and the big Russian tried to speak. “The Man in the Moon sent them to me, but we can’t be rash about this. Children are protected a little better now than they were when I was still alive.” His voice cracked, but he quickly cleared his throat and hurried on.

“Their mother might not be protecting them, but she’s not actively hurting them. It’s best to just remove the abusive step-father and keep an eye out to make sure the mother doesn’t fall back in with the same sort of rabble. If she’s put away for not protecting her children, Jamie and Sophie will just be shipped from place to place. They’ll know that no one wants orphans.” Again, Jack’s voice broke.

He hurried on, crouched one the tip of his staff and swaying with nervous energy. “So, the sooner the better. I say we deal with this tonight, give this guy a good scare to get rid of him, maybe even threaten him a little—” he eyed Bunny, his gaze looking like that of a desperate cornered animal again “—and get Jamie and Sophie back home to their mother. Right?”

There was a moment’s pause in which all the Guardians were too stunned by Jack’s quick and nonchalant reveal to speak. Since hearing from Baby Tooth what Jamie had whispered in his nightmare, they had all suspected the children were being abused, but they hadn’t thought it would go so far. They had never suspected that Jamie and Sophie were being sexually abused also or that their mother wasn’t taking the steps to protect her children. The silence spread, thick and heavy.

Taking their quiet as a sign that they agreed with him, Jack said, “Okay then. Let’s get this show on the road!”

Bunny was the first to find his feet, bolting up and closing his paw over Jack’s skinny shoulder before the boy could dart away. “Blimey! Wait just a doggone minute!” His voice was louder than he had expected with shock as was his grip on Jack tighter than intended. 

Uncontrollable frost blossomed over Bunny’s fur and Jack’s wide blue eyes met his in something resembling fear. “Bunny,” the winter sprite whimpered out. A thick layer of frost spread over the injuries in his palm and forehead and crawled over the more delicate parts of Jack’s body like armor. Bunny had hurt him before in rage and Jack didn’t want to take any chances. What would Jamie and Sophie think of the Guardians of Childhood if Jack came back to their room covered in bruises and had to explain that the Easter Bunny had hurt him? 

Bunny pulled his paw back, frost crackling off of his fur and falling to the floor where it melted upon such close proximity to the fire. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, mate,” Bunny said to Jack.

The frost child took a step backwards, his hand going to the injury at his forehead. 

Sandy abruptly floated from his chair, coming over to Jack and putting a hand on the top of his head gently. Jack turned from Bunny eagerly, trusting that Sandy wouldn’t allow the Pooka to attack him when his back was turned. Sure enough, Sandy slid Bunny a thin golden glare. Then a fast slew of symbols raced over Sandy’s head so that Jack had to concentrate. ‘Jack, how did you find all that out?’

Jack twisted his hands nervously around his staff. “Jamie and Sophie told me a little and I went to their house in Burgess.”

Tooth gasped, flying to her feet with shock and her wings beating so fast they practically hummed. “That house you were inside?!” she gasped, her mind filling with images of the cursing man and cowering woman. Those were Jamie and Sophie’s parents? “It’s their home?”

Jack nodded, frost weaving up and down his staff. 

“How did you find their house?” Bunny asked, his green eyes narrowing. He had thought it was suspicious the way the children had been brought to Jack and the way Jack already seemed to know everything that was wrong with them, but he hadn’t truly believe Jack had been sitting back, watching two children being abused, until he heard that Jack had been inside the Bennett house. Anger built up white-hot in Bunny’s chest. “Have you known all along?”

Jack glanced over at Bunny. He had been focused on Sandy and Tooth, on how North was staring blankly at the bandaged doll he still held in his lap, and hadn’t heard Bunny’s first question. Having only heard the second one, Jack nervously wet his lips and slowly nodded because he really had known since the day he found Jamie and Sophie in the woods what they were going through.

For a moment, Bunny was unable to speak and he didn’t understand why his fellow Guardians were so calmly clustered around Jack. How could they just stand there, so accepting? Jack was supposed to be a Guardian, damn it! He was supposed to protect children, not stand around and watch them being tormented! How could Jack just watch?!

Rage exploded from Bunny like a bomb going off. With an angry war cry, he launched himself at Jack without even bothering to pull out his weapons. He knocked Tooth and Sandy aside easily, neither of them having been expecting an attack. Jack’s eyes widened and he pulled his staff up, frost already shining on the curve of it, but Bunny was faster in his anger. He knocked Jack down with one smooth blow, the back of his wrist and paw smashing into the side of Jack’s face.

The boy cried out and it was a sharp sad sound of pain and betrayal. Jack crashed to the floor, skidding on the hardwood until he was dangerously close to the roaring fire. The frost on Jack’s clothes instantly melted, pooling around his body like blood. Bunny leaped on the frost spirit, all teeth and claws like the animal he was. He struck Jack once, twice, three times—each blow harder than the one before it. Frost began to coat Jack’s face, running down his throat and chest until it hurt Bunny’s knuckles to strike him.

Instead, he fisted his hand in Jack’s sweater, pulling the boy up until they were nearly nose to nose. Frozen droplets had gathered in the corners of Jack’s wide blue eyes, panic spreading frost that melted just as quickly from the heat of the fire. “How did you know?” Bunny snarled, shaking the boy cruelly. “How did you know what they were going through? Did you stand around, peeking through windows, just watching?”

Jack clutched at Bunny’s tight grip. “N-no,” he whimpered pleadingly. “I didn’t…”

Bunny threw off Sandy and Tooth as they tried to pull him off of Jack. He heard North get up and saw the bandaged doll go rolling across the floor soundlessly, but everything was happening too fast. It seemed as if there wasn’t even time to draw in breath. “You damn coward! How could you just watch children being hurt? Why didn’t you do anything if you already knew?” 

Bunny struck Jack again and the boy cried out as the protective coating of ice over his face shattered. 

Then, North’s big hand fisted in the thick fur at the back of Bunny’s neck. He ripped the Pooka off Jack, slamming Bunny against the wall and pinning him there with both hands. “Tooth, check on Jack. Sandy, make sure children were not woken by noise.” North’s blue eyes were like twin flints, glaring through Bunny’s very soul. “Bunny, what are you thinking?”

Bunny thrashed in North’s grip. “What am I thinking, mate? What are you thinking?” he shouted at his friend. “You’re acting so chummy when Jack knew all along that those kids were being abused!”

Tooth knelt at Jack’s side, offering him anything she had—her hand, her embrace, his staff which she had picked up in the scuffle, any kind words she could muster. Sandy had already flown from the room, hurrying upstairs to make sure the children were still sleeping soundly and that they hadn’t heard the noise of the fight. Jack wrapped his fingers around his staff and pulled himself to his feet. For a moment, he leaned unsteadily on it, his eyes scouring the room warily.

“Jack?” Tooth breathed, but her soft voice was drowned out by Bunny’s shouting.

Jack’s eyes held no recognition for the warm living room. He glanced at Baby Tooth who was flying near his head and looked right through her. The melted frost that had pooled in front of the fireplace from his clothes and fear abruptly froze solid. Like something alive and filled with intent, it crept up his legs and over his hips. The wound from Bunny’s boomerang on his forehead had begun to bleed again, but it quickly froze so that the blood was stopped in the act of dripping down his face. Bruises were beginning to stand out on his cheeks, but these too soon iced over. Winter wrapped around Jack like armor.

Then Bunny got both feet in North’s chest and kicked loose. Blind with protective anger for Jamie and Sophie, Bunny came right at Jack. Tooth threw herself between them, wings lowered and eyes hard. She would not let Bunny harm Jack who was but a child himself over what had to be a misunderstanding. Jack would never stand by and watch children be hurt—none of them would. She would stop Bunny, regardless, but Tooth’s protection proved unnecessary. 

Jack’s eyes snapped towards Bunny, hard and frozen and without a shred of recognition. With a single movement, Jack lowered his staff and a wave of frost blew Bunny back with all the force of an oncoming train. Smashed into the wall, the ice melded over Bunny like chains. It pinned his ankles and wrists, molded over his throat and ears until not an inch of Bunny could move to attack further. Only then did Jack lower his staff, but he did not otherwise move. He looked like a statue of ice, unseeing, unmoving.

For a long moment, silence reigned in the living room, only broken by Bunny’s labored breathing and the crackle of ice forming. 

“Jack,” North whispered. His voice was soft and gentle.

The frost spirit’s eyes moved towards North and he lowered his staff to point at the Russian. Spears of frost began to grow at Jack’s feet, stabbing up with a suddenness that was frightening from the hardwood floor. Though Tooth was only a few feet away from Jack and common sense told her she should move out of range of these dangerous spires of ice, her instincts warned her that moving would only draw Jack’s attention. 

“Jack,” North said again, “Is me. It is North.”

The boy’s icy eyes did not waver from North’s face, but no recognition appeared in his gaze. He just stood there, staring, his ice and frost creeping all over the room like a dangerous animal. The frost fed into the fireplace, crawling up the walls and into the chimney. It melted quickly, falling into the fire with sizzling hisses, but the warm fire began to gutter. The flames wavered for a long moment, fighting the wet and cold of winter, but finally went out. Shadows fell over the room.

Sandy appeared in the threshold, flashing a thumbs-up to signal that the children were still asleep, but he froze in the middle of that good gesture. Jack turned towards Sandy and the golden light played off the thick ice he had coated himself protectively with.

Silently, Sandy took in the room. 

Jack was standing in front of the extinguished fireplace. Blood was frozen to the side of this face and dark bruises were beginning to stand out on his pale flesh. He had covered most of his thin body in icy armor. Tooth was kneeling a few feet in front of him. Her amethyst eyes were wide and her shoulders trembling slightly with the effort of keeping her wings still. She appeared to realize that moving would only attract Jack’s attention so she remained carefully still. Bunny had been plastered to the wall with a thick coating of ice. His green eyes were still bright with anger, but he had fallen silent and still. How much of that was a result of the ice covering him, Sandy didn’t know. North was standing between Bunny and Jack, his large hands lifted pleadingly.

A tendril of golden sand wove towards Jack slowly, lazily, unthreateningly. With just as much caution, Jack lifted his hand and reached towards it, watching as the golden sand wove between his fingers like an affectionate pet. It settled in the palm of his hand and slowly began to shape itself into the images of the Guardians. First, Sandy himself and the little man waved at Jack tenderly. A thread of recognition wove through Jack’s pale eyes. The sand shaped into Tooth after that, followed by North, then Bunny, and finally the children sleeping upstairs.

Jack’s lips moved in the semblance of their names and he slowly slid to his knees in the ruined ice around him. The frost relaxed, pulling back towards Jack. Slowly, it came up, sheltering Jack and wrapping over him like a protective shell. Then, all was quiet and still for a long moment as the frost began to melt.

Bunny was dropped onto all fours, shivering wetly as the ice immobilizing his body melted. Tooth held out her hands, letting Baby Tooth settle into her cupped palms. North let out a breath of relief, glancing back at Bunny. Sandy floated over to Jack, picking his way over puddles.

“I… I didn’t know,” Jack whispered brokenly, picking up where the argument had both begun and ended. “I didn’t know they were being hurt… I never would have let them be… if I have known…”

Tooth thought of Jack’s many cracked teeth and whispered, “Jack… how did you know?”

Jack wet his lips, a terrible tremble running through his body. One hand fisted lamely in the pool of water he was kneeling in, the other convulsed around the wood of his staff. “I… we…” his voice cracked, breaking with youth and pain. “I know what it looks like,” he whispered. “I could tell because…”

Sandy came to a stop beside Jack’s fallen form and gently touched the boy’s back.

“Because… because it happened to me… when I was still alive…” He lifted his face to look at Sandy and his cheeks were streaked with half-frozen tears. In all their years of immortal life, none of the Guardians had seen such a heartbreaking sight as Jack Frost fallen to the floor like that, crying weakly, his eyes glittering like jewels with blood and bruises standing out on his white-pale skin. “The same thing happened to me,” he whispered and those words were the worst thing ever

X X X

(1) This is just a kind of random guess at how old Tooth’s mini-fairies are. Since Tooth hasn’t been out in the field for around four-hundred-and-forty years, you’ve got to think that she’s had help around that time. So I’m thinking the little fairies are around five hundred by the time Tooth trained them and was content that they could go out alone.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	15. The Blizzard of '68

Okay, fifteen chapters in and we’re going to talk about Jack’s past. Good pacing, self.

And may I just say... YIKES! There is so much Bunny-hate going on right now!

X X X

_“Because it happened to me while I was still alive… The same thing happened to me…”_

For a long moment after Jack’s words stopped ringing in his ears, Bunny didn’t think he breathed. All thoughts of anger and rage deserted him, flowing out like water from a shattered glass. The guilt rushed into his empty heart like an infection, swallowing up everything else he could have felt in that moment. There was no room for shock or even horror amidst all the overpowering guilt that filled him.

Bunny could only stare at Jack Frost, at the child he had once again brutally attacked. 

Blood and bruises stood out on Jack’s face. His eyes were so pale, like ice running over shallow water, and an endless flow of tears ran down his face too quickly to even freeze properly. He was slumped down, defeated, broken in a pool of melted ice and frost. His lips still moved occasionally, but no words came out or maybe Bunny couldn’t hear Jack’s voice over the pounding of his own heart.

Bunny wanted to speak, to apologize, but he was unable to find his voice and time did not wait for him to find it. He could only watch as Tooth and Sandy guided Jack to his feet, pressing in around him like a shelter, and led him from the room. North remained in the ruined living room, picking up scattered cookies, until Bunny found himself again.

Bunny whirled to face North, his mouth open but no words came out when he saw the crestfallen and disappointed expression on his old friend’s face. He had never seen North look that way at him—with such overwhelming and crippling disappointment. Bunny could take North’s anger. He could handle North’s shouting and cursing. He could even handle North’s quiet white-hot rage, but this… he couldn’t bear his friend to look at him like he had failed beyond all sense of the word.

“North,” Bunny croaked out. 

“You attacked him again, Bunny,” North said softly.

Bunny had no words, no excuses, nothing. 

“Jack is just child,” North continued. “He is barely fourteen (1) and has been alone, ignored even by us—Protectors of Children, the people who should have helped him the most—for three hundred years. He is just child and yet you attack him again.”

Bunny wet his lips, struggling to speak. “I—”

“You cannot forgive Jack for one misguided effort to gain attention, but tell me, Bunny,” North said. “How many times should he forgive you?”

The air was stolen from Bunny’s lungs in a sharp gasp.

“How many times should we forgive you, old friend?” North finished. Then, without another word, he picked up the tray of cookies, turned his back on Bunny, and left the room. The door swung closed behind him, banging hollowly against the jamb. 

Bunny gripped the edge of the couch, heaving himself to his feet and shivering as the melted ice water dripped from his fur. He wanted to follow after his fellow Guardians, he wanted to follow after Jack even if he wasn’t sure how the frost child would react. He wanted to apologize, to say all those empty words that children like Jack no longer believed. He wanted to fix this, but he didn’t know how.

The window was at his back and the wind rattled the panes. Jack’s long-time and only friend sounded angry, howling against the glass. Bunny almost turned to apologize to the wind, but that was foolish and he knew it. But he turned anyway and saw the moon hanging in the sky. The moonlight flowed like a curtain and Bunny felt the physical touch of the moonbeams on him. His heart began to pound. Manny didn’t often speak to any of the Guardians and for him to speak to Bunny twice in the span of a few days…

Bunny tried to flee from the Man in the Moon’s sight, but it was too late. The moonlight settled on him like a grip, preventing him from running. This time, no comfort flowed into Bunny—only empty terrible loneliness did. Tears nearly sprang to Bunny’s eyes, but he choked them back and then something else entirely rushed into Bunny.

_It was Easter of 1768 and the entire world was covered in out-of-season whiteness. The snow sparkled like diamonds and was dusted with the most beautiful fern-patterned frost. The boughs were draped with curtains of ice and snow, the windows of warm houses were lovingly frosted at the edges, and a few snowmen had been built in the shape of the Easter Bunny in a few yards._

_For a moment, Bunny just stood there, looking at the oasis of winter that surrounded him. Wow… this was some of Jack Frost’s best work… He must have been working well through the night to make the entire world look like this, but… The snow was too thick and not a lot of people ventured out. Children did, of course, enjoying the snow in April the way only children could. Bunny watched them playing and listened to them laughing and smiled faintly._

_But he remembered this ruined holiday—it was impossible to forget. Parents cancelled picnics and egg rolls because of the weather. Organized Easter Egg Hunts were cancelled as well. Children were so fascinated by all the snow and the sculptures of a giant life-sized (not that they knew it) Easter Bunny that no one in the neighborhood was taking credit for building that they forgot all about Easter. It wasn’t that they stopped believing or anything. They just… forgot as innocently as children were often apt to do._

_Bunny almost couldn’t blame them as he stared at the wonderland Jack had created just for Easter and a knot of guilt welled up like a stone in his chest. He had never looked at that out-of-season blizzard like this. He had never seen the beauty and hard work. He had never noticed that Jack had poured his entire soul into creating it. All Bunny cared about was that the warmth of belief inside of him was fading and that his holiday was ruined and that Jack Frost had destroyed it with this blizzard._

_Bunny stood there in the snow, untouched by the cold of the memory, but a wave of phantom emotions washed through him. He was reminded of his potent rage, of how he had just wanted to rip apart whoever had ruined his holiday, how he didn’t care about anything else in that moment._

_The beautiful winter world rushed around Bunny as he was pulled from Burgess—the location where Jack had spent the most time making the blizzard beautiful—and spirited to where he had found Jack Frost a little while later. Bunny saw the hole open from beneath the layers of snow, saw his own long ears peek out and listen to the crackle of ice as it formed, and finally watched himself leap out into the deep snow. He shivered, as unhappy with the cold as ever, but didn’t appear to notice through his rage._

_Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to grab this past vision of himself and pin him down, to prevent this moment from happening. Then, Bunny saw Jack Frost and the words to warn the poor boy got caught in this throat. This was only a memory and Bunny couldn’t protect Jack from himself. This moment was years in the past, fresh wounds having already turned to scars on the lonely frost child._

_The young spirit was still new and young, just nudging fifty years as a spirit, and it showed in the bright and lonely smile on Jack’s face. Leftover belief and love for Easter shone in Jack’s eyes. He might not have remembered his life as a human just then, but he certainly looked like he recalled some happy emotions from previous Easters. When Jack saw Bunny leap from the hole, he smiled brightly and dropped down from the tree where he was dazzling the branches with a curtain of frost as if he and Bunny would share a good conversation over the beauty he had created just for Easter._

_“Don’t!” Bunny shouted at himself, throwing his arms out in an attempt to stop what he knew was coming. “Stop!”_

_God, how could he not have seen that expression on Jack’s face? How could he not have seen that hope, the good-natured smile, the tendrils of belief and happiness shining in those baby blue eyes? How could he not have seen the abject breathtaking loneliness that was eating the boy up from the inside out? But the vision of the past walked right through Bunny and the feeling stole the breath from his lungs._

_He whirled around. “Stop! Don’t do this!” he shouted, but he could only watch as history repeated itself._

_Bunny watched desperately as the memory pulled back his fist and punched Jack square in the face. The frost child had never seen the blow coming, still smiling hopefully as he was, and that only made it twice as brutal. Jack crashed backwards from the force, his back colliding harshly with a pine tree, and his staff clattered from his hand. A shower of loose snow fell over both of them._

_Jack looked up, fear and pain written on his face, but he didn’t look as if he believed the Easter Bunny would really hurt him. He looked mostly surprised as he lifted a cold hand to his stinging cheek. He started to open his mouth, to speak, maybe to explain or ask why Bunny was so angry when he had showered his best snow on the world. But Bunny never gave the child a chance for any of those._

_He struck Jack again, pinning the boy down with one large foot on his narrow chest. Bunny’s claws raked through Jack’s thin white shirt and deerskin cloak, drawing blood that froze quickly. He rained punches down on Jack’s exposed face and torso even as the boy lifted his hands in a pathetic shade of protection. His staff lay out of reach, half-buried by the torrent of snow that had fallen from the tree when Jack collided with it._

_The frost child struggled beneath Bunny’s grip, trying to escape the combination of blows and kicks and hard bites that Bunny used to pull the boy’s wrists aside so he could strike Jack’s face uninhibited. Bunny was an animal, beating Jack with the rage and skill leftover from the Golden Age and battles with Pitch Black back when the Boogeyman had been new and twice as cruel. Those skills had not been enough to save his race, but they were more than enough to beat an innocent and unguarded child._

_And Jack was defenseless because the more Bunny hit him, the less he fought back. Blood flowed freely from a split in his lip, unable to freeze beneath the onslaught of Bunny’s blows. One eye was darkening at the edges, a bruise developing beneath the skin and swelling despite the freezing snow. Jack’s wrists and forearms were peppered with dark bites and more bruises from trying to defend his face and throat. The boy’s chest was smeared with scratches from Bunny’s lower claws. His thin white shirt was tattered, revealing the pale flesh beneath and the curve of ribs that were far to visible._

_Bunny, watching this all taking place again and unable to do anything to stop it, was abruptly sick. He turned away, retching quietly, but the sounds still haunted him even though he had closed his eyes to block out the sight. The sounds still reached him, even when he put his hands over his ears._

_He could hear Jack whimpering, crying out with each painful blow. Occasionally, the boy tried to speak little pleas for mercy and forgiveness, a few weak little apologies slipping out like blood. He could hear himself snarling, hissing, and growling like the animal he was deep inside. Then, Bunny heard a sound that shouldn’t have come from Jack’s body. There was a sharp crack and then the boy was screaming._

_“Stop it!” he shouted to the sky and the moon and anyone who would listen. “Just stop!” But it didn’t stop. Even though Bunny didn’t want to see what he did to Jack next and had done his best to turn away, the memory filled the world from all sides until he had no choice. Sickened, he watched._

_Bunny grabbed Jack’s wrist, bending it at an awkward angle to further wrench the broken bones. Jack’s beautiful eyes were filled with half-frozen tears, his face was battered with bruises and blood, and his chest was scratched badly beneath the torn remains of his shirt and cloak. He sucked in ragged breaths, staring up at Bunny with desperate fear and confusion. God, the boy still didn’t understand what he had done so wrong to deserve this—to deserve this pain and punishment._

_Bunny twisted Jack’s wrist, prying another sharp cry of pain from the frost child. “Don’t ever mess with my holiday, again, ya hear?” he snarled, his accent thickened with his rage._

_Jack only nodded, his tongue darting out to probe the wound in his lower lip. He winced, whimpering softly._

_“No more snow on Easter, ya little shit,” Bunny growled, digging his claws into the boy’s broken wrist. “If ya ever do this again, Man in the Moon help ya ‘cause I’ll kill ya!”_

_Again, Jack nodded quickly and tried to carefully pull away from Bunny’s painful grip. Fear filled what little Bunny could see of his swollen blue eyes and the set of his mouth looked like he was holding back a thousand pleas for mercy and escape. The frost child trembled, tears tinged with blood rolling down his bruised cheeks._

_With one final snarl, Bunny jerked the boy to his feet by his mangled wrist and tossed him several feet into another tree. The boy hit it hard and lay still in a snowdrift, barely daring to breathe. Bunny snorted angrily, his breath pluming on the cold air. Then, he tapped his foot twice and disappeared down a hole._

_Bunny thought that would be the end of this terrible memory, but the Man in the Moon saw fit to make him see more because the memory did not fade. It remained, patient and painful. Cautiously, Bunny drew closer to Jack’s crumpled form, seeing for the first time the full extent of the damage he had done to the frost child in his rage._

_The boy lay in the snowdrift, gazing at his mangled wrist with tear-filled eyes. Jack’s wrist was bent terribly and curled sideways slightly. Slowly, cautiously, he ran his other hand gently over the broken bones and whimpered quietly. Bunny now knew that Jack had lived during colonial times and had probably never been to a real doctor in his small village, but he saw evidence of that suffering now as Jack squeezed his eyes shut and curled his fingers over his broken wrist. With a sharp pull and a dull snap, he pulled the wrist back into place as best he could. He whimpered, the pain too great to further attempt to align his bones. Then, he crawled through the snow until he reached his staff. Clutching the skinny stick, he passed it over his wrist and encased the injury in a cast of ice._

_Then, he staggered to his feet and looked down at his body. He plucked at his ruined white shirt, peeling it from the frozen blood over the countless scratches on his chest. The shirt was ruined, but his deerskin vest had been left unlaced and was mostly free from harm. Quietly, whimpering only when he had to use his injured hand, Jack pulled off his cloak and vest and stripped out of the ruined white shirt. A little breath caught in Bunny’s throat as he stared at the boy’s torso. Jack was nothing more than pale alabaster skin stretched tight over bones and littered with old scars. Bunny’s fresh claw marks and bruises stood out painfully against such whiteness, just like the bright blood that had been spilled on the snow._

_He wavered towards Jack a few steps. “God, mate, I’m so sorry…”_

_But the memory of Jack didn’t hear him. In fact, it looked as if Jack could hardly see through his swollen eyes as he sought out his discarded clothing with both hands outstretched. He slowly redressed in his vest and cloak, sheltering his naked skin as best he could. Then, he packed a snowball, wrapped it in the bloodied remains of his shirt, and pressed it to the swelling on his face, murmuring what sounded like quiet reassurances to himself. The boy then allowed the wind to sweep him gracefully into the air and spirit him away from the site of his abuse._

_In a nauseating swirl of trees and rushing snow, Bunny followed through the memory._

_Jack touched down on his frozen pond in Burgess, the wind settling him delicately onto the ice. Jack wavered for a moment, looking like he wanted to stand but couldn’t find the strength. Finally, Jack just lay down on the ice. He curled within himself, sheltering his broken wrist to his chest and wrapping himself tightly in his deerskin cloak. He clutched his bloodied shirt to his chest, weeping quietly into the fabric. Overhead, storm clouds began to gather and stinging flakes of snow began to fall._

_Bunny had never known that a second blizzard came on top of the first one in April of ’68. That must have been what had drawn North down from the pole to investigate. But Bunny had been too busy trying to salvage was he could of his holiday, contacting Sandy so the little man could put Bunny into the children’s dreams that night._

_Sure enough, after a few feet of stinging ice and snow to match Jack’s emotional state had covered the beautiful wonderland he had created during the night for Easter, the trademark lights of North’s snow globe exploded against the grey of the stormy sky. The sleigh circled over Burgess a few times, seeking the source of the trouble or maybe making sure Bunny wasn’t buried up to his ears, before landing loudly beside the little frozen pond._

_Jack immediately jerked upright, keeping his staff tight in his grip and his posture low in defense. One eye was still very swollen, nearly shut, but the other was open incredibly wide as if compensating. The snow and wind swirling around the lake sharpened like knives, but didn’t move towards North. Jack would never make the first move to harm another. The little frost child watched North closely for signs of attack as the big man climbed down from his sleigh and surveyed the area._

_“Hello,” he called. His voice large and booming over the howling wind and Jack winced in pain._

_Bunny almost called a warning to North, but this was only a memory and Bunny could only watch._

_The boy tensed as North took a few steps towards the little pond. He lowered his staff threateningly. “That’s close enough. What do you want?” he demanded, but his voice was weak and pained and slurred slightly by the split in his lip._

_“To talk,” North said, lowering his voice now that he was close enough to see the lonely spirit through the swirling snow. The waifish child he saw through the flapping tails of the deerskin cloak did not look as dangerous as North had suspected when three feet of ice began to cover the world. The boy had been beaten badly and was merely afraid. “Will you talk with me, young winter spirit?”_

_Jack lowered his staff slightly, but his visible eye was dark with suspicion and fear. “About what?” he asked._

_North gestured to the whirling snow and stinging ice around them. “Won’t you calm your storm first? I believe you are about to send us into another Ice Age.”_

_Jack looked up as if just now realizing that it was snowing so terribly. His mouth opened, but no sound came out and Bunny saw that Jack’s white teeth were bloodied from some injury inside his mouth._

_The boy glanced at North suspiciously again and moved into the very center of his frozen pond before closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath. The wind calmed first, slowing to a gentle breeze that felt more like breath. As the wind slowed, the stinging flakes relaxed into gentle puffs of flurries that were as thick and fluffy as cotton. Again, Jack breathed out slowly, his grip on his staff loosening. The snowflakes dwindled and then stopped altogether. Overhead, the clouds remained thick and gunmetal-grey, but they too began to dissipate, just at a far slower pace._

_“Thank you,” North said kindly. Then, he moved closer to the little pond, squinting against the brightness of the snow. “Who are you, child?” he asked._

_Jack twisted his fingers in the end of his cloak, pulling it over his chest and broken wrist. “Jack Frost,” he whispered._

_“Ah,” North said gently. “Won’t you come closer, Jack Frost?”_

_“No!” Jack’s shout surprised North, but not Bunny. After being hurt so badly, it was so be expected that Jack wouldn’t want to risk coming close to any fellow spirit, but North was someone who could be trusted to maintain himself even in his temper. Bunny’s heart broke a little when he realized he had damaged the trust North might have otherwise built easily with the lonely spirit boy. “No,” Jack said again, but quietly._

_North sat down at the edge of the pond, making himself comfortable on the snow within the safety of his fur-lined coat. “Alright,” was all he said._

_Shock showed on Jack’s pale face. He stood there on his frozen pond, unwilling to move closer but looking like he desperately wanted too. North merely waited, his large hands folded in his lap and his bright eyes looking at the surroundings rather than at Jack._

_“Are you…” Jack ventured after a long moment. “Are you Santa Claus?”_

_“My name is Nicholas St. North,” he said kindly. “Most of my fellow spirits call me North.”_

_“North,” Jack said quietly, testing the name on his tongue. He dared a little step closer._

_“May I call you Jack?” North asked._

_The boy nodded, taking another little step closer towards North. He was obviously curious, breathtakingly lonely, and so injured._

_“May I ask what happened to your shirt?” North asked, no longer able to hold back the question._

_Jack sharply realized he was still holding the wet and snarled knot of bloodied white fabric in his visible hand along with his staff and the edge of his cloak. He quickly tried to hide it, but only succeeded in releasing the edge of his cloak so that North could see the damage to his thin torso through the laces of his vest._

_North’s blue eyes widened and Bunny felt as if he had been punched in the gut. The bruises on the winter spirit had turned into hideous purple splotches run through with bright red frozen scratches. Against his pale skin and the dark laces of his vest, it looked terrible._

_“I… I…” Jack began desperately, searching for something—anything—to say._

_North lifted a hand. “Is alright,” he said gently. “May I give you something?”_

_Jack backed away, returning to the middle of the frozen pond. “What?” he asked and there was a terrible tremble in his voice._

_North rose to his feet and moved back towards his sleigh where the reindeer waited restlessly. He rummaged through his red velvet sack where he always kept a few things in case of emergency. It was a habit leftover from his days as a cutthroat, keeping extra weapons, bandages, clothes, and food on hand at all times. Now, he extracted a red sweater from the sack. He moved back towards the pond, holding it up and eyeing Jack. This had once been his size, but the elves had gotten their little mitts on it and shrunk it somehow. Now, it was the perfect size for the scrawny child before him._

_“Should fit you,” North said softly. He gestured for Jack to come closer. “Here. Come take it. I am not fond of walking on ice.”_

_Jack hesitated, torn between so obviously wanting to hide his body and his fear to approach North after how badly Bunny had beaten him. Bunny’s heart broke further, little pieces chipping and shattering. North often told him that Bunny hadn’t seen Jack on the frozen pond and now Bunny understood why mentioning that made North’s eyes so sad. No child should fear Santa, but Jack was terrified to risk stepping off the thin ice to accept anything from North._

_“Come,” North continued. “It is alright.”_

_Jack approached cautiously like a wounded animal. When he was a few feet away, he appeared to consider using his staff to pluck the clothing from North’s outstretched hand but must have feared losing his staff more than he feared another attack. He kept the staff and the bundle of bloodied white cloth clutched close with his forearm, his fingers hanging limp and pained from his shattered wrist. With his good hand, he quickly snatched the knitted sweater and scurried back to the center of the frozen pond._

_“See?” North said gently. “It is alright.”_

_Jack glanced at North, keeping his cloak pulled tightly closed and his staff gripped tightly. The bloody remains of his white shirt slipped from his grasp, but he didn’t bend to pick it up. He kept his staff and the new shirt clutched close as if they would be taken from him._

_“It is alright,” North said again. “It is yours. Put on.”_

_Jack knelt down on the ice, setting his staff close by and unfastening the ties of his cloak. Setting it aside, he quickly untied his vest and pulled the sweater on over his head. The movement was fast, but both North and Bunny caught a glimpse of the boy’s body. His shoulders looked like the skulls of birds, peppered with a few bruises, and Bunny could see that the boy’s back was badly bruised as well, probably from his harsh collisions with the trees. Jack whimpered as he pushed his wrist through the sleeve and then spent a long moment cradling it tight to his chest as he fought back tears._

_“Jack,” North said gently. “Is something wrong with your wrist?”_

_The boy cradled it close, but even through his fingers and the cast of ice he had sheltered it in, the dark bruises and damage to his wrist were obvious. “I… I think…” Jack whispered. “It’s… it’s broken.”_

_“Did you reset it? Won’t heal properly otherwise,” North said. “I knew someone who didn’t set his wrist correctly and he couldn’t use his fingers properly for the rest of his life.”_

_Jack’s eyes widened and he looked down at his mangled wrist. It was still slightly crooked and his fingers dangled limply. He quickly ran his other hand over the cast of ice as if that would somehow heal the injury with willpower alone. Jack curled his fingers, whimpering as white-hot pain speared through his wrist._

_Bunny’s paws filled with the phantom feeling of Jack’s bones breaking beneath his grip. He scrubbed them on the fur of his thighs but it did nothing to remove the feeling of Jack’s shattered wrist from his grasp. He remembered bending that wrist cruelly, the bones grinding dully as Jack gazed up at him in fear and pain._

_“I could help you,” North offered. “I am very good at setting wrists.”_

_Jack’s eyes filled with tears that he struggled to choke back and he nervously looked at North. Cautiously, he approached the large man, his fear of never being able to properly use his hand again overweighing his fear of being struck again now. He stepped off the surface of the frozen pond, frost spreading across the snow beautifully. He timidly offered his wrist, flinching back when North reached for him the first time. The second time, Jack allowed North to cradle the iced wrist between his palms._

_“Let the ice melt, Jack,” North soothed. “It will hurt when I set it, but I will do my best not to cause further pain.”_

_Jack wet his lips nervously and focused on the ice around his wrist. As it melted, burning pain rushed in as the numbness faded. North shushed the child, quieting his soft whimpers as he rubbed the wrist gently between his palms. He gripped Jack’s forearm, studying the deep gouges in the flesh there that looked like bites. Then, gripping the boy’s fingers tightly, he gave one firm pull. Jack yelped and flinched with the thought of struggling free, but he calmed himself as North squeezed the bones into proper alignment._

_“Now, Jack,” North continued. “I need you to create another cast out of ice, but you need to immobilize your hand so the wrist may heal, alright?”_

_Jack nodded and coiled his thin cold fingers over North’s so that he wouldn’t freeze North, too. Once the big man had released Jack’s wrist completely, he watched with rapt curiosity and wonder as ice flowed up and over Jack’s bruised and bitten forearm._

_“Very good,” North said. “Should heal perfectly now.”_

_“Thanks,” Jack whispered and studied his wrist. “I tried to set it, but…”_

_“It is often very hard to set one’s own injury,” North said kindly. “One never wants to cause self pain, but others—”_

_Jack flinched and Bunny felt abruptly sick with himself again._

_“Others are very willing to cause pain to you, yes?” North continued. “Will you tell me who hurt you?”_

_“I just wanted to help,” Jack whispered. He so obviously wanted to tell someone about what he had done and how he had intended it to be—to receive praise and be absolved of blame. “I thought I could make Easter more fun… with all the snow, you know. I worked on it all night, trying my best to make it really pretty and I even made some Easter Bunnies out of snow, but…”_

_North’s eyes widened. “Bunny did this to you?”_

_Jack froze, his face going a shade paler with fear as frost coated his cheeks like meager armor. He shrugged, noncommittal, but the truth of it was clear on his face._

_North reached out to touch the boy’s shoulder, to offer the child some comfort, but Jack sharply pulled back. He fled to the center of his frozen pond, gathering up his cloak and vest and the ruined remains of his shirt. He clutched all these things along with his staff and his wrist to his chest._

_“Thank you for helping me, North,” he said and forced a thin smile. “Thank you for the sweater, too. I won’t bring anymore snow until winter, I promise, so… please…” Jack’s voice cracked, but he quickly shook his head and plastered a smile over his pain like a bandage._

_Before North could respond, the boy swept himself into the sky and was gone on a gust of wind._

_After that, the memories around Bunny turned into a nauseating swirl of the past few days. He had to watch himself shouting at Jack when he thought the boy had pulled the Guardian signal as a prank. He watched his boomerang fly and carve into Jack’s skull. He heard the bitter words he had shouted at Jack—that the boy was dangerous, that he couldn’t help the children—and even though he hadn’t said it out loud, he had implied that Jack wasn’t worth being a Guardian._

_He watched himself attack Jack just moments ago, drawing fresh blood and further pain from the boy. Jack hadn’t tried to fight back against Bunny, he had only tried to protect his body with a layer of ice and frost that cracked beneath Bunny’s paws. He heard himself spew venom as he demanded in a rage why Jack hadn’t helped the children if he had known what was happening to them. He called Jack a coward, he screamed and he growled, and even though he hadn’t inflicted near the amount of damage as the Easter Blizzard of ’68, this was somehow worse._

_Maybe because so soon after, Jack had whispered the worst truth—“Because it happened to me while I was still alive… The same thing happened to me…”_

Abruptly, the memory crumpled and shattered like the petals of a flower destroyed by frost. Bunny collapsed, panting, tears streaming from his eyes as the horrible memories faded. The Man in the Moon only stepped in when he thought it was absolutely necessary and now Bunny understood why. He had been so wrong and he had hurt Jack so badly and the boy… he was just a child!

Jack Frost was just a child. Bunny should have protected him, helped him, sheltered him, but he had only caused him pain and suffering. He had wounded Jack and now to find out that Jack had suffered so terribly as a mortal child too was just too much. Bunny choked, smothering on sobs.

How could any child’s parents hurt them? 

…

Tooth and Sandy eased Jack down into a chair far from the fire in the Globe Room. The frost was slowly reforming on his clothes and the agony in Jack’s face began to ebb from his eyes, but not by much. He still looked tormented with the blood and bruises blossoming on his face. Tooth fetched a damp cloth and began to gently clean the frost child up. 

Sandy sat beside Jack, holding his hand gently and entertaining the boy with golden sand. 

Just as Tooth was finishing applying her last band-aid to Jack’s cheekbone, North entered the room and came to sit opposite the winter sprite. He sat in silence, lowering his head into his hands and letting out a deep shuddering breath. 

“I’m sorry,” Jack said suddenly. 

North’s head snapped up with dizzying speed and he saw that Jack had his hand curled over the wrist that had once been so badly broken by Bunny.

“Oh Jack,” Tooth said softly, brushing the boy’s hair back so she could examine the injury at his temple. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have told you sooner,” Jack continued as if he hadn’t heard. His fingers clenched over his thin wrist as if he could still feel the injury beneath the flesh. “I should have explained the moment I was certain. I should have just told you the truth.”

“Jack,” Tooth tried again. “This was not your fault. None of this is.”

North patted Tooth’s shoulder, quieting her. “Jack,” he said gently, softly, a voice he reserved for children. 

Jack turned slightly to look at him. 

“Will you tell us?” North asked kindly. “Will you tell us what happened to you?”

Jack wet his lips nervously, but slowly nodded. “Yeah…”

Sandy raised an image of a rabbit. ‘What about Bunny?’

Jack inhaled, but let the breath out in an exhale of lovely frost. “He should hear it too,” he whispered. “Maybe if he does… he’ll understand.”

Tooth squeezed Jack’s fingers, her mind filled with images of his broken teeth. “Oh Jack,” she murmured.

He gripped her hand tightly, turning his bright eyes towards her. “Will you stay with me?” he asked almost desperately, his eyes moving to North and Sandy. “Stay with me so he can’t hurt me again, please? Please, will you stay with me?”

Tooth’s heart broke for this poor boy just then because that shouldn’t have to be a question. “Of course,” she whispered and hugged him close against her breasts. “Of course, Jack. We’ll all stay.”

He leaned into her, exhaling hard. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

X X X

(1) Okay, so Jack’s age… Honestly, he just can’t be seventeen or eighteen. In his flashback, he’s definitely from colonial times so most children that age would already have a family going. Since Jack went out to play with his sister, he has to be much younger. Plus, the author of the books once stated that Jack was only fourteen. Here’s a link to a neat little site that has more information on the ideas and information behind Jack’s age. Link: http://ickaimp.tumblr.com/post/37532061848/jacks-tombstone-sources-or-it-didnt-happen

Questions, comments, concerns?


	16. Tell Me I'm Frozen... But What Can I Do?

We’ll be seeing Jack’s past in a sort of flashback so just roll with it. 

These flashback chapters are inspired by Within Temptation’s song, “Frozen,” hence the title of the story (and these chapters).

X X X

It was Sandy who went to retrieve Bunny from the other room. The sobbing creature he found crumpled wet and guilt-ridden on the floor was a shade of Bunny’s true self. With caution and tenderness, Sandy patted Bunny’s back and encouraged the Pooka to his feet. It took a little while to dry Bunny off and get him presentable, but Sandy managed. Then, he explained that Jack was going to tell them of his past and if Bunny was going to speak, it would be only to apologize. Bunny nodded, pulled himself together, and followed Sandy into the Globe Room.

The lights of belief twinkled against Jack’s back, casting much of his face into shadow. Maybe he had positioned himself like that on purpose so that the bruises and bandages would be less apparent or maybe that was just the place furthest from the warmth of the fire. Tooth and North sat on either side of the boy without touching him. Their eyes were hard on Bunny, but a soft gesture of Sandy’s hands made them look away. Sandy guided Bunny to sit across from Jack and then settled contentedly on his golden cloud between them. 

Jack cracked a weak smile when Sandy gave him a thumbs-up, but was unwilling to meet Bunny’s eyes. Bunny’s mouth went dry, desperate to apologize, but no words seemed sufficient in light of having seen just how much Jack had suffered at his hands—how much Jack was still suffering. Instead, Bunny kept silent and hoped that the sunken posture of his body was enough to convey his guilt and sorrow to Jack, but the boy didn’t even glance his way. 

Jack instead took a deep breath and began his story, his trembling fingers knotting in the soft blue material of his sweatshirt. “I was born into a good family,” Jack began, “but…”

:::

The year was 1710 and it was winter.

Jackson Overland was twelve when his father was killed in a logging accident. There hadn’t even been much of a body to bury in the churchyard after the animals picked him clean. Soon after that, his mother cried herself to death. Or maybe she poisoned herself because there were whispers throughout the village of her buying a potion from the apothecary, but Jackson refused to believe his mother would take her own life when she still had him and his sister. Her broken heart had killed her and he would stand by that until he died.

But without parents, they couldn’t stay by themselves. It was winter and though Jack had often helped his father hunt, he wasn’t good enough to provide for his sister and himself—especially not during winter. Occasionally, he could snare a rabbit in his trap, but that was all. The village was small and it was agreed that Jackson and his six-year-old sister, Olivia (1), would live at the church with the village’s preacher. The man already had a few orphans under his wing and could tend a few more without much trouble.

The little church was nestled in the woods near a small pond and the preacher lived in the small cabin beside it with the orphans he tended. It was a quaint distance from the village so the orphaned children could shout and scream to their hearts’ content without disturbing anyone. During the warm summer months, they were able to swim and bathe in the pond. During the winter, the small pond froze very well and was wonderful for ice skating. It was a perfect place for all children to gather, orphan or not, and it tended to keep everything in the small village in balance.

At first, everything was all good as it could have been under the circumstances. The other children welcomed Jack and Olivia into their ranks, sharing what they could with the two newest orphans. The preacher, Caleb Blackburne, was kind and kept the children in line with a firm and just hand. There was enough food to go around even though it was a particularly hard winter. Sometimes, Jack took Olivia to visit their parents’ graves in the little cemetery beside the church. 

Then, everything went dark. It must not have taken very long, but the week following their mother’s death and their orphaning seemed to last for far longer than it must have. The other children whispered of it at night, but Jack didn’t truly believe. He had gone to church every Sunday with his family and he believed the preacher to be an honest and kind man. Then, Caleb took Olivia into his confessional and when she came out, she was crying. 

“What happened?” Jack asked, trying to draw her into his arms.

She shied from his touch, something she had never done before. She had Jack had always been close, sharing stories and blankets and keeping each other company when their father had to go logging and their mother had to work in the village spinning thread. But now, she pulled away from him and sobbed harder into the sleeves of her dress.

“Olivia,” Jack tried again. He followed her into the cemetery where she slid to her knees at their mother’s grave. “Olivia, please, talk to me. What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Jack,” she whispered. “I can’t…”

He felt a bubble of wrongness well up in his chest when he saw the tear in Olivia’s petticoats beneath her dress. The pristine white fabric was dotted with specs of blood. “What happened to your legs?” he asked, reaching for her again. 

She shied away. “Nothing,” she said maturely. “Just a scratch. I’ll mend it.”

“Olivia,” Jack said again, but quietly. 

It was the voice he often used to coax baby birds into his hands and his little sister was not immune to that soft tone. She turned to face him as if turned by invisible hands even though Jack no longer reached to touch her. Tears shone in her brown eyes, glittering like snowflakes, and her lips parted to speak.

“Jackson!” Caleb called from the threshold of the little cabin’s doorway. “Could you come here please? I could use your help.”

“Just a moment,” Jack called back and turned his attention from the preacher to Olivia.

His sister’s eyes were wide and she had gone very still.

“Olivia,” Jack murmured.

She recoiled from him, her hands clenching in the fabric of her apron. “Nothing, Jack,” she said. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Olivia,” one of the girls called, peeking around a partially opened shutter in the kitchen of the small cabin. “Come on. Help me peel potatoes for supper!”

“Coming,” Olivia called. She stood up, brushing snow from her knees, and hurried into the cabin.

Jack watched her shy around Caleb like a mouse that had been spotted by a hungry cat and studied the way the preacher patted her hair as she passed by. But then Caleb was smiling and calling to Jack again and Jack promised himself that he would talk to Olivia about it later. He didn’t suspect anything so dark and terrible just then. 

He joined the other boys and they went out in the woods together to gather firewood. Jack, being the oldest, was told to watch over the others and make sure no one stepped on to the frozen pond. It was early in the season yet and the ice wasn’t solid enough for skating. Nodding to Caleb, Jack led the others into the woods and Caleb returned into the church to receive his next confession.

A little time passed. 

Jack and Olivia fell easily into the routine of the church and orphanage. The week was quiet, but Sunday was often busy with church activities. Jack spent a lot of his time accepting food donations to the orphanage and counting the money that was donated to the church. The children all attended church on Sunday, but did not have to attend confession until the following day. Caleb was busy with the people from the village on Sunday and it was often a day of play for the children rather than rest or prayer, but Caleb never scolded them.

During the week, Jack often tended the boys, teaching them to hunt rabbits with snare traps and mark their way in the woods so they wouldn’t get lost. He habitually warned them about the pond because they often forgot the dangers of the lovely little lake. Olivia had always been mature for her age—something Jack hated and often combated with tricks and pranks—and didn’t need much of her older brother’s care. In fact, she taught the other girls to sew, spin thread, and clean the rabbits Jack occasionally brought back.

Caleb often praised them for their hard work in the church and at home in the cabin. He rewarded Olivia with ribbons for her hair, but she never wore them, even when Jack told her how pretty they were. Instead, she hid them away in the bottom of her drawer. Caleb rewarded Jack with stone knives and a little extra dessert even if he shared it with Olivia. Caleb was always smiling at them, smiling at Olivia, and Jack wasn’t sure when exactly that started to bother him.

He tried to ask Olivia about it, but she always told him it was nothing and not to worry. Sometimes, her lips moved with no sound coming out, as if she wanted to tell him something but didn’t quite dare. Sometimes he saw her eyes sparkle with tears, but he hadn’t seen her cry since the first time Caleb had taken her into his confessional. 

Jack began to notice that the girls and a few of the young boys were often quiet and sad after confession on Monday. He wasn’t entirely sure why. No one liked to confess their sins and receive boring punishment, but it was something necessary to their lives. 

Jack began inventing games for them to play after confession. Sometimes, it worked, but other times, the children were too listless to play. Instead, Jack told stories. He told them the tale of the hunter in the forest who wore antlers on his head and married a beautiful princess who could turn into a deer. When neither his games nor his stories could animate them, Jack did things that were reckless until the expression returned to their faces with their concern for him. He sometimes hung upside-down from the branches of the big pine outside or walked across the frozen pond (keeping to the edge so he wasn’t in true danger though).

Caleb rewarded Jack for this too, smiling a little smile that reminded Jack of the snake that was twisted around the tree in the chapel. 

Then, one day, Olivia came to her brother and clung to him. Her hands were shaking and her apron was dirty. There was something in her hair, sticky and white. “Jack,” she whispered, but wasn’t unable to say anything else. Jack could feel her lips trembling against the side of his throat as he held her tightly.

“Olivia?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, clutching him tighter. “I want to go,” she whispered suddenly. “Can we go?”

Jack stroked her hair, thinking that she was missing their parents. “No, Olivia,” he said gently. “We have nowhere to go. We have to stay here.”

Olivia trembled in his arms, her little fingers knotting in his shirt. “Then… tell me a story, Jack,” she whispered. “Please.”

Jack nodded and gathered her up in his arms. She clung to him in a way she hadn’t since she was very small and terrified of the Boogeyman hiding in the dark. (Olivia used to have frequent nightmares, but they had stopped recently as if the Boogeyman had taken pity on her.) He carried her to the room she shared with the other girls and settled her into her bed, but she still wouldn’t release him so he sat down and held her in his lap. The two other girls came to join them on the bed, looking up at Jack patiently as if anticipating that a story was coming. 

“What kind of story do you want, Olivia?” he asked, smiling at the other girls.

“Tell be about the princess who lives happily ever after with her prince,” Olivia whispered. 

Jack looked at the other girls. “Do you want to hear that story, too?”

One girl with pale blonde hair nodded, but the other’s green eyes filled with tears. 

“Olivia,” he whispered, his heart pounding for reasons he didn’t understand. He stroked her hair, picking at the stickiness tangled there. “Olivia, before I tell you a story, tell me what happened?”

She sobbed quietly without answering.

“Olivia?” Jack murmured and turned back to the other girls. “Molly? Bridgette?”

The green-eyed girl gripped Jack’s thigh, her fingers clutching the thin material of his trousers. Her nails had been chewed to the quick, ragged and sharp that he could feel even through his pants. She looked like she wanted to speak, but the blonde pulled her back.

“No, Molly,” the blonde hissed. “Don’t! He told us not to tell anyone.”

“Who did?” Jack asked, cradling Olivia tighter to his chest with one arm and using his free hand to pull the green-eyed girl into his lap as well. “You can tell me. It’s okay.”

“Caleb,” Olivia whispered into her brother’s throat. Her voice was so soft that he almost missed her words. “It’s Caleb.”

“Caleb?” Jack repeated. “What about him? What happened?”

Olivia wiped her cheeks and her nose with her sleeve, pulling back slightly to look into Jack’s face. Jack waited patiently, his eyes wide, for her to tell him what had happened. He was her brother. He would protect her. He would always protect her. And now that they had been orphaned, he would protect the other children too because they were all he had in the way of family.

“Olivia?” he whispered.

“He touches us,” she whispered.

“Us?” Jack repeated. He glanced at the two other girls to see them nodding timidly. “All of you?”

Olivia continued quietly. “He does it in confession. Every time. Sometimes he has one of us come up to his room during the week or at night.”

“Doesn’t he touch you, Jackson?” the green-eyed girl whispered.

Jack shook his head, his heart pounding raggedly behind the cage of his ribs. 

“He touches the other boys,” the blonde continued. “Just like he touches us.”

“And today,” Olivia whispered. “He took me into his room… He made me touch him and then he—” she picked at her sticky hair, her eyes filling with sparkling hysterical tears. “I don’t know what it is, Jack.” Her voice cracked sharply with her fear and sorrow. “What is it?”

Jack pressed her into his chest, whispering soothing nothings and rubbing his hand up her back. 

Jack was twelve, almost an adult. He knew what Olivia was talking about and he knew it was wrong, but he didn’t know what to do to stop it. Caleb was the village preacher. Everyone trusted and believed him. Anything Jack said would mean nothing to the adults of the village. At best, they would just ignore him, consider his accusations the ramblings of a child who had lost both his parents and was driven with grief. At worst, Caleb could convince them that Jack and Olivia were heretics or blasphemers. Only God knew what would happen to them after that. 

Just a few months ago, Maggie Murdock had been burned as a witch (or maybe as a blasphemer, he couldn’t quite remember) in the village square. Jack couldn’t imagine the pain she must have gone through, being burned alive, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. If that were to happen to Olivia—no, he would die before he ever let anything happen to her. 

“Jack?” Olivia breathed. Her voice was small and thin.

The other girls were staring at him, too, waiting for him to say something. He was older than all of them and they were hoping he would be strong like their parents had been. They wanted Jack to help them, but empty promises would never suffice. They had already been hurt and there was no room left now for disappointment. They had reached the edge and Jack could either pull them back or push them over with whatever he said next. 

“I’ll protect you,” Jack assured them finally because there was nothing else he could possibly say. 

“How?” Olivia whispered and her small voice trembled like a bird. 

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “But I will. I’ll protect you… somehow…” He gathered all three girls into his lap, holding them close and wishing his thin arms could offer more than just an embrace. “I’ll protect all of you. I promise, I promise… you’re going to be fine, I promise.” 

They burrowed into his embrace, clinging to him tightly. Olivia began to cry quietly, followed by the other two until Jack’s shirt stuck to his skin wetly. With a little time and some soothing words, they soon quieted, remaining cuddled in his arms for protection from the rest of the world. He began to tell them the story Olivia had requested, spinning together a magical kingdom where the sun never set with a beautiful princess and brave prince.

But Jack felt the shadows press in on him as night fell beyond the shuttered windows. The moon rose into the sky as a thin crescent that looked almost like a pale shade of a comforting smile. Jack stared at the moon, fear and concern settling like a stone in his chest. His story almost choked just as he reached its happy ending. What could he do to defend these orphaned children from the man who was supposed to protect all of them?

X X X

(1) No name has been given for Jack’s sister. Her name is not Pippa—that’s the name of the girl in the hat—but they share the same voice actor. So I decided to use the name of the sister’s voice actor for lack of any better choice. Olivia Overland has a sort of nice ring to it.

Check out Within Temptation’s song, “Frozen.”

Questions, comments, concerns?


	17. Can't Tell The Reasons, I Did It For You!

Forgive the religious overtones in these flashback chapters. You have to realize that the era Jack grew up in was very religious so these kinds of thoughts would be foremost in his mind.

X X X

Jack’s thirteenth birthday fell soon after that. Caleb baked a cake for the children to all share and even got candles for Jack to blow out. But all Jack could think as he looked at Caleb were the hands that touched his sister and the other children. All he saw in the frosting was the whiteness he had combed from Olivia’s hair. He felt sick as he watched Caleb circle the table, touching the girls’ hair and the boys’ backs. He wanted to scream, but his voice stuck in his throat. Olivia glanced at him pleadingly as Caleb stroked her dark tresses, asking her about the ribbons he gave her that she never wore.

“Why don’t you come to my room after you finish your cake, Olivia?” Caleb offered sweetly, smiling like a painted saint.

Jack’s fingers clenched around his fork as Olivia’s dark eyes moved desperately to her brother. 

But Caleb only smiled and petted her hair before moving to circle the table again, touching Jack’s back with a murmur of, “Happy birthday, Jackson.”

Jack thought he’d be sick, but forced himself to smile and say, “Thank you, Caleb.”

The preacher left the children on their own after that, going up to his room to wait for Olivia. 

Jack immediately threw down his fork and went to his sister’s side. He gathered her into his arms, taking the hand of the young boy seated beside her. “Let’s go,” he said to them. “He’s not going to touch you, not any of you.” But he didn’t have much more of a plan than that as he led them from the cabin’s small roughhewn dining room table, bundled them into their winter coats and scarves, and led them out into the snow. “Stay together,” he told them, crouching to be at eye level with all the children. “And don’t go too far.”

“What are you going to do, Jackson?” one of the girls asked, her fingertips peeking through a hole in her mittens when she clutched his shirt. “What are you going to do?”

He peeled her fingers from his shirt, repressing a shiver as the winter air cut through the thin fabric. “I don’t know,” he said, wishing he had any kind of idea of what to do now, “but I’ll think of something. I’ll make sure he never touches you again—any of you.” He gently tilted Olivia’s head up and moved to press a kiss to her forehead, but she pulled away. Jack’s face fell, his heart breaking for the sister he loved like a part of his own heart. “Olivia?”

Her eyes welled with tears. “Jack, I… I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

He shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner, Olivia. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

She sniffled, but didn’t have time to tell her brother anything else. Without saying another word, Jack walked back into the cabin like a man walking towards his execution. A long shadow cast by the church’s steeple fell at his back like the devil’s sinfully clutching hands. The cabin door banged shut behind Jack loudly and the winter wind seemed to howl at the loss of him.

Olivia turned to the other children. They were all looking at her as if she had something to tell them, as if she was a prophet from the good book—all because her brother was going to protect them from Caleb. She sucked in a hard breath and said with all the maturity she could muster, “You heard Jack. Stay together and don’t go far. Let’s make snow angels.”

But as the orphans began to play, the younger ones forgetting the strife that was crossing their lives and the older ones unable to forget to feign happiness, Olivia looked up at the empty black windows of the church. Inside, her brother was going through what she had gone through and she could only feel sick at heart. Even if he was doing it to protect her, to protect the others, she didn’t want him to suffer either. Not Jack, never Jack. Not Jack who tried his hardest to make them laugh, who gave them fun whenever he could, who sacrificed so much and now more.

“Not Jack,” she whispered quietly.

The wind howled around her, kicking up snowflakes.

…

When Jack knocked on Caleb’s door, it was opened with first a sultry look and then one of shock as the preacher wrapped his robe tightly around himself and smoothed back his pale hair. “Jackson,” he said and cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“I know what you’re doing to the children,” Jack said fiercely. Maybe false bravado could frighten Caleb into halting his sinful actions, maybe there would be no cause for Jack to try anything else. “I want you to stop.” If not, Jack wasn’t sure what he would do next.

“Oh?” Caleb asked and folded his arms over his chest. He leaned on the threshold, looking down at Jack with amusement. 

Jack’s mouth ran dry and he knew in that moment that he could do nothing to stop Caleb without something drastic. “You have to stop. It’s a sin,” he forced out anyway.

“Why is it a sin? Because you are children?” Caleb asked, reaching out to trace his fingers along Jack’s cheekbone. “In just a few years, you will be of age to take a wife and she’ll be younger than you. In just a few years, your precious sister will be of marrying age.”

Jack pulled sharply away from Caleb’s touch. “You’re a preacher. You’re supposed to love only God—”

Caleb barked a laugh. “Yes, but even God understood that a man has needs. Why do you think Eve was created for Adam?”

Jack’s eyes widened further, his hope fading.

Caleb smirked, patted the thirteen-year-old boy on the head condescendingly. “Now, why don’t you stop this foolish little trial and send Olivia up to me?”

Jack slapped the hand away, his eyes narrowing. “No!” he shouted at Caleb. “You’re done touching her! You’ll never touch any of them again! I’ll take all of them away from here and—”

“And what, Jackson?” Caleb sneered. “You’ll take care of them in the woods? You’ll form a precious little family of lost children like you make up in those stories you tell them?” He threw his head back and laughed like the raucous cackling of crows. “If you take those children, you will all die slow and painful deaths. Some might starve to death, others will freeze to death, and some might just get sick and never get better. You don’t have what it takes to protect the children, Jackson.”

Tears burned in Jack’s eyes. He wanted to deny it, but he knew Caleb was right. Though his hunting and tracking had improved with practice and time, it was nowhere near the skill required to feed a family in the sparse barrenness of winter. He would never be able to provide for or protect all the orphans without an adult’s help.

Caleb flicked the tip of Jack’s nose with his finger. “You couldn’t even take care of yourself and your sister, Jackson,” he continued cruelly. “Why do you think you came to me in the first place? It certainly wasn’t to help me. It was because you couldn’t take care of yourself, silly boy.” Caleb turned away, his long robe swishing on the floorboards. “Now, send up your sister. She’s my favorite.”

Jack’s blood ran icy-cold as he stared at Caleb’s back. There was nothing he could do at all, he realized and the last little flicker of hope vanished from his heart. He couldn’t fight Caleb’s influence over the people in the village, he couldn’t frighten the man of God, and he couldn’t even reason with him. He wouldn’t be able to take the children away, to a new shelter or a new world like he made up in his stories. He couldn’t protect them. He couldn’t do anything!

But…

Caleb heard the door close softly and smirked. He had always worried that Jackson would attempt to stand against him being that the boy was older than most of the orphans he took in. It was easy enough to threaten the younger children into silence, but he had always known that Olivia would eventually confess to her dearest brother. He would have to punish her for that when she arrived. But Jackson’s stand had been more pathetic than Caleb had expected. It had almost been too easy.

Then, the preacher heard the light pad of footsteps and the soft rustle of fabric. He turned abruptly and realized that the muted thump of the closing door had not been Jackson leaving in defeat, but entering Caleb’s bedroom to try something else. The boy’s pale naked skin gleamed in the light, peppered with goose bumps and a few faint bruises from roughhousing with the other boys. His fingers were knotted in the soft material of his trousers, shaking slightly.

“If you can’t be persuaded to stop,” Jack said firmly even though his body trembled, “take me instead. Leave them alone, all of them.”

Caleb’s eyes slid over Jack’s naked torso appraisingly. Being thirteen, Jack was just a little too old for him, but as he assessed the boy’s body he began to reconsider. Jackson was tall for his age, but long-limbed and slender like a girl on the cusp of puberty. His body was virtually hairless like that of a child, pale skin gleaming like porcelain, and untouched save for a few scars of youth on his elbows and probably his knees. His face was a lot like his sister’s with the same lovely chocolate tresses and deep brown eyes like leaves during fall. The boy’s throat flashed as he breathed, as he nervously swallowed. 

Caleb glanced away, thinking. What would it be like to be with the older boy? The young boys’ bodies were too small for Caleb to take the next step that he desperately longed for without damaging them permanently and he worried about the girls becoming with child. If he were to take Jackson instead, his body larger and stronger… what was there to hold him back?

Jack must have thought Caleb was going to deny this offer as well because he suddenly spoke. “Please, take me instead. I can… make it better for you. I’ll do anything you want,” he pleaded. “Just… don’t touch them anymore. Leave them alone. Just take me.”

Caleb smirked at Jack. “Anything I want, eh, Jackson? Your mother always was a good whore and I see you’ve inherited her traits. You know she used to come to confession every Sunday, telling me all the sordid little details and asking to be forgiven. She tried to be a woman of God, but she was just a whore.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t speak.

“Alright, Jackson,” Caleb relented, seeing that he wouldn’t get a rise out of the boy. “We have an agreement.”

“Shake on it,” Jack said suddenly, sticking his hand out, “like a man.”

Caleb laughed again, but humored the boy by shaking his hand lightly. Jack squeezed his grip down as if to prove to Caleb that he was stronger than he appeared or maybe it was a last-ditch effort at frightening the preacher from his sinful ways. Either way, it was merely amusing and Caleb snickered softly. 

“No time like the present,” Caleb said with a widening smirk. “Since the children told you what I was doing to them, I’m sure you know what’s coming next. Take off your trousers, Jackson.”

Jack’s hands shook as he pulled down his pants, stepping out of them to stand naked in front of Caleb. The boy’s legs were thin and his knees were scarred just as Caleb had suspected. His behind was nicely round and pale, well-formed length hanging against his inner thigh, and Jack did his best to cover himself with his hands. Caleb was inches from him in only two steps and Jack hadn’t realized he was backing away until he felt the roughness of the wooden door against his back.

“No need for that, Jackson,” Caleb crooned. “If you want to protect the children, you won’t be able to run from me.” Then, his hand slid between the boy’s clenched thighs, cupping his small genitals fondly. “Interesting,” the preacher murmured as he rolled Jack’s orbs lightly between his fingers before giving a squeeze that made him wince. “Are you a virgin, Jackson?”

Jack bit his lip, forcing his eyes to meet Caleb’s. “You’re the one who tells the village not to fornicate out of wedlock.”

Caleb smirked. “Would you like to be my bride, Jackson?”

The boy winced again as Caleb squeezed the most vulnerable parts of his young body. “Stop,” he whispered. “That hurts.”

“Terribly sorry,” Caleb hissed and folded his mouth over Jack’s. The boy’s mouth still tasted like birthday cake and Caleb licked his lips eagerly. “Delicious,” he murmured into Jack’s mouth as his warm hand began to tug and caress the boy’s genitals. “This is the part where Olivia always started to cry… when I kissed her and touched her…”

Caleb expected the snap of Jack’s teeth and had already pulled back when the boy lashed out. It was an easy matter to sharply backhand him, drawing blood when Jack’s teeth sunk into his own lip instead. He whimpered, lifting a hand to press at the wound, and his wide eyes stared angrily into Caleb’s face. He looked ready to fight and Jack was a logger’s son, after all. He might be able to do some damage to the preacher despite his small size.

“If I were you,” Caleb told Jack firmly, “I wouldn’t do that.” His words and the squeeze of his hands held a bitter threat.

“Stop talking about her,” Jack snarled, the corners of his mouth and eyes tightening with pain. “She’s my sister!”

“Fine.” Caleb squeezed Jack’s small member firmly, his nails digging in, prying a little whimper from the boy. “Would you prefer I talk about you? I can’t wait to feel you getting hard in my hand, enjoying what I do to you like the whore you are.” He stroked his thumb over the tip. “You’ll get all sloppy like a woman… like Olivia does…” He chuckled.

“Stop,” Jack hissed, his teeth bared like an animal’s. “Stop talking!”

Caleb pressed his mouth over Jack’s again, delving into the boy’s sweetened cavern. Jack’s tongue fought back, pushing against Caleb’s, but it didn’t matter. It was merely a distraction as Caleb pushed the boy’s naked body harder against the door. He kept Jack’s legs apart with his knees, exposing him the cool air. His hand slipped lower, fingers seeking out a place even Jack didn’t touch. He pushed one long finger into the boy’s body, feeling his muscles clench at the intrusion. When Jack cried out softly, his feeble resistance failing in the face of pain he had never felt before, Caleb devoured him.

“You’re so tight,” he said into Jack’s mouth. He added a second finger, prying another cry from the boy as he spread the dry muscles, and began to thrust them deep. He rasped his nails gently against Jack’s convulsing walls, not wanting to injure him, but enjoying the little tremors that ran through his violated body. “So tight… I like it.”

“Just,” Jack forced out, “get it over with.” His fingers knotted against Caleb’s robe and he bite his lip to stifle his cries.

“Not this time, Jackson,” Caleb rasped against the shell of his ear. His breath was hot and sent a shiver down Jack’s spine. “This time, you’re going to work for it. Since this is what you want.”

The words bit into Jack like a thousand knives, spearing into his every vulnerability. “W-what?”

Caleb withdrew his fingers from the boy’s body and the relief that filled Jack was only equal to the dread that welled up like a stone in its place. Caleb’s hand pressed down on the back of his neck like an iron vise, forcing Jack to his knees at the preacher’s feet. There was a tent in his robes at his crotch and Jack was too old not to know what it was. His father had told him the basics before he died and his mother told him about love and making love with a small smile.

“No,” Jack whispered, staring at the fabric that moistened at his proximity. His heavy breath stirred the cloth as if a ghost lived inside it, inside Jack’s lungs, in the very air around them. Maybe it was God, warning Jack. The boy whispered, “It’s a sin…”

Caleb untied his sash, releasing his manhood, and smirked at Jack. “There is no such thing as sin,” he snarled at Jack, threading his fingers through the boy’s chocolate tresses. They were so soft, just like Olivia’s, and the preacher moaned quietly at the thought of what was to come. “Not if you want to protect your sister and the other children, Jackson.”

Jack braced his hands on Caleb’s thighs, struggling weakly, as the man’s member bumped against his lips. “But God—”

“There is no God for orphans,” Caleb hissed, pulling Jack’s hair back sharply so he could look into the boy’s face. “Haven’t you realized that, Jackson? Don’t you think if there was he would have kept your father alive so your mother didn’t have to kill herself? Don’t you think he would protect you from this? Once you became an orphan, you ceased being God’s child.”

Tears burned in Jack’s eyes and throat as the truth in the words picked into his faith and trust. Fear and darkness seeped into his heart like shadows and his eyes moved towards the window. A little crescent of moon hung in the midday sky, smiling benevolently like a saint.

“Open your mouth,” Caleb said coldly, “and suck.”

Jack closed his eyes and opened his mouth. Caleb immediately thrust eagerly into the wet warm cavern, the tip of his manhood sliding into the back of Jack’s throat and gagging him. As if the taste alone wasn’t enough to make Jack want to vomit. It was unwashed, foul-tasting, and salty. Jack braced his hands on Caleb’s thighs, hoping to hold the man back slightly, but to no avail. Caleb thrust at a relentless rhythm, only occasionally slowing his pace to demand something more of Jack’s hands and tongue. 

Jack gagged, his eyes watering as he struggled to breathe through his nose. Caleb pushed into his throat deeper, smothering Jack against his belly and in his pubic hair. Jack’s teeth scraped against the flesh and the preacher pulled out for a moment, allowing Jack some much-needed fresh air, only to slap him harshly. Jack tumbled against the door, his hand going to his brutalized cheek and his eyes wide. The fierceness was gone from Jack’s face, replaced with fear and pain.

“Watch those teeth,” he snarled, pressing his thumb into the bloodied split in Jack’s lower lip. He smeared the blood across the boy’s lips, smirking. “If you try to bite me again, I’ll punish you.”

Jack swallowed nervously, his hands weakly clutching at the floorboards. He finally nodded his understanding.

Caleb thrust back into his mouth, working Jack’s head at the rhythm and pace he chose. “Lick the underside,” Caleb ordered, pushing deeper, and Jack had no choice but to obey. He had no choice when Caleb ordered him to fondle his hanging orbs and when he demanded that Jack use his hands to cover the inch that didn’t fit in his mouth.

When Caleb finally came, stinging hot seed coated the inside of Jack’s mouth. It tasted terrible! It was salty and fetid, burning the back of Jack’s throat and the wound in his lip. He retched weakly, but Caleb folded his hand over Jack’s mouth, grinning like a skull. His white teeth shone. 

“Swallow it all, Jackson,” he said wickedly. “Swallow it all.”

And Jack had no choice even though his stomach and throat burned as if he had eaten coals. 

“Good boy,” Caleb said and patted him on the head. “Olivia isn’t nearly as good as you are.”

Jack didn’t react save a small tremor passing through his body. He lifted a small hand, wiping at the blood and semen that coated his lips. 

Caleb chuckled, folding his robe back over his body. “Well, Jackson, you’d best get dressed and get back to the other children,” he taunted. “I bet they’re worried about you.” 

The preacher watched Jack shakily rise to his feet and pick up his discarded clothes. Jack pulled on his pants with a wince, hiding his delectable pale flesh, and fastened his belt tightly. Then, he yanked on his shirt, folding his arms over his middle. Once he began moving, it was as if he couldn’t dress and leave fast enough. His eyes darted wildly around the room, but his movements were pained from Caleb’s rough intrusion into his untouched body. 

Just as Jack grasped the doorknob, ready to bolt like a frightened deer, Caleb called out to stop him. “Oh, and Jackson?”

The boy froze, his fingers trembling on the knob.

“Next time, I’ll enter you and my fingers are much smaller than my manhood. If you don’t want your body to tear, you’d best put your own fingers within yourself so you stretch out and get used to the feeling of being penetrated,” Caleb said with a wide smirk.

Jack’s eyes narrowed sharply and he hissed, “Never!” 

Then, he slammed out of Caleb’s room and the exit would have been admirable if Caleb hadn’t heard him running as best he could despite the pain. The preacher sat down on his bed, running his fingertips along his manhood. Jack’s mouth had been nice, but Caleb couldn’t wait to enter his body. It would be so sweet and far easier than trying to bend the frightened children to his whims. Jack was older, wiser, and he understood. Plus, his body was stronger—he would be able to take more of Caleb’s fantasies and make them reality.

X X X

Questions, comments, concerns? 


	18. When Lies Turn Into Truth, I Sacrificed For You!

If you haven’t checked out Within Temptation’s song, “Frozen,” yet you definitely should.

X X X

Later that night, Olivia tried to talk to her brother. She crept into the boys’ shared room after it was dark and she was certain Caleb was asleep—if he caught her sneaking into her brother’s bed and embrace, it would only make everything worse. The preacher would call her a slut just like her mother. Inhaling deeply, Olivia padded silently on bare feet down the hall and slipped into the boys’ quarters. The younger boys were already asleep, sprawled out and mumbling in dreams or nightmares just as the younger girls did in their shared room. It almost made Olivia smile.

Then, she saw the shape of her brother’s sleeping body. He was huddled beneath the blankets, shivering slightly despite the warm fire that had burned down to deliciously warm coals in the grate. Olivia perched on the edge of his bed, stretching out a hand to touch his tousled hair. He jolted beneath her touch, but did not pull away from her fingers as she often did to his after Caleb had touched her. Jack was so much stronger than she was, braver and older, but she still didn’t want him to go through that hurt.

“Jack,” she murmured.

He rolled over to face her, his eyes shining in the faint moonlight. “Olivia,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

She nodded. “I know, but I… I had to come.”

Jack wet his lips.

Olivia studied the split there. She reached out slowly, her fingers grazing his lower lip gently. “Did Caleb do that to you?”

He curled his fingers over her narrow wrist, guiding her hand away from the wound, but he did not try to lie to her. “Does it matter if he did? Just so long as you and the other children are safe, he can do whatever he wants to me.”

“Oh, Jack,” Olivia breathed.

“It’s fine,” Jack continued. “I’m fine.”

Olivia rose from her brother’s bedside, smoothing the rumpled quilt absently like their mother used to. “Jack, I…”

His eyes gleamed and it was the first time since their parents’ death that she had ever seen her brother on the verge of tears. He was afraid. Whatever Caleb had done to Jack was far worse than what he did to her and the younger children. A little sinful touching would not have hurt Jack like this, would not have made him look this afraid. Or maybe it was what was to come that frightened him so much.

Jack sat up and pulled Olivia to him, embracing her tightly. He buried his nose into her clean hair, inhaling the scent of baked bread and flowers and soap. He tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter what Caleb did to his body. He was protecting Olivia and that was all that mattered. But… the fear burned like a coal in his chest, scalding his heart. What would it be like when Caleb acted out his fantasies? How badly would it hurt when Caleb’s manhood entered his body in a way only women were meant to be loved? How much could he take before he broke down?

“Jack,” Olivia whispered, her small hands running down his back soothingly.

He pushed her away slightly, tucking her dark hair behind her ear lovingly. “It’s alright,” he assured her with a forced smile. “I’ll protect you.”

“But Jack—”

He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing whatever she was going to tell him. “I will,” he insisted. “I will. He’ll never touch you again. Alright? You just have to believe in me, okay? And I’ll protect you. Can you do that for me?”

Olivia could only nod. 

The conviction in her brother’s words was too strong not to believe, but as she looked at the wound in his mouth, the seed was planted. Unbeknownst to Jack, Olivia began to think that maybe it was better if Caleb touched her. Her female body was meant for it, unlike her brother’s. She thought she could take more to shield him than he could take to protect her. Her brother looked so fragile in that moment and she felt strong in the night with the moonlight shining down on her. The seed grew, its roots spreading. 

Yes, maybe it would be better if Caleb touched her instead…

…

Despite himself, as the week drew on and the day Caleb would summon Jack to his bedroom again drew nearer, Jack began to think about what Caleb had said about preparing his body. What would happen if he didn’t? Would his body tear apart like the people who were impaled for heresy in the town square? 

A few times, he caught himself thinking about how painful Caleb’s fingers had been inside him. If something bigger were to force its way within, it would be far worse. Jack’s body might break and he wouldn’t be able to do the things he usually did to cheer up the children. The day after Caleb’s fingers had pushed inside his tight muscles, Jack had found it difficult to climb trees. What if he didn’t prepare his body? It was certain to be worse, wasn’t it?

When darkness fell and the other boys were soundly sleeping, Jack let his hands wander. He carefully touched the curve of his ribcage, the bend of the bones that pressed against his pale skin with his thinness. He hadn’t been able to eat much all week and he had always being painfully slender. But he didn’t worry just then about his slight weight or the barren winter season. 

His fingers slipped lower, gliding over the bones of his hips and beneath his thin cotton pajama pants. When his palm brushed his genitals lightly, he winced and nearly withdrew his hands. Caleb had left bruises on this most intimate part of his body and he would leave worse marks if Jack didn’t do something to prepare himself. Taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves, Jack forced himself to lift his knees and grant his own fingers access to his body.

Even the lightest touch of his fingertips felt rough and strange and little bubble of fear took root in his chest. He couldn’t do this! But if he couldn’t, what would happen? He forced himself to try to press past the ring of tightened muscle. He tried to relax, to open himself to this, but even then, there was nothing but scraping pain. It was just like when Caleb had touched him. 

His body didn’t possess the natural lubrication of a woman. Timidly, he retracted one hand and slipped his fingers into his mouth. He licked them lightly, squeezing his eyes shut in shame, but forced himself to coat them. Then, he let his hands travel back to their destination. This time, letting his breath out in a slow even breath as if he was praying, he was able to slide one finger inside himself.

Experimentally, not daring to open his eyes, he wriggled his finger slowly. The feeling was foreign but not altogether terrible. He slid his finger in and out a little, miming the thrusting motion Caleb had forced upon his mouth. Then, he added a second finger and felt the stretch of his muscles to accommodate the intrusion. It wasn’t painful yet, but he was slow and careful with himself. 

Surely Caleb would not be so kind.

Jack swallowed, his heart hammering against the cage of his ribs. He brought his second hand to his mouth, leaving the fingers within his body as he licked the fingers on this hand as well. Then, he slid a third finger inside with the two others. He felt his body clench and tremble as if pleading with him to go no farther. It hurt—a dry painful stretch that rocked him to the core of his being.

Biting his lip and drawing fresh blood from the half-healed split, he forced himself to add a fourth finger. He thrust the two fingers from his first hand slightly, curling them within himself experimentally. Some pain ebbed, replaced with a strange feeling in his lower belly. 

When his member began to stir slightly, Jack quickly removed his fingers and curled up on his side, pleading for the evidence of enjoyment to vanish. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy this! This was just preparation for something terrible! But the evidence was there between his thighs, hardening with interest at the feeling of being penetrated. 

Sickened with himself, Jack buried his face into his pillow and fought back the tears. 

He might have known why and how people copulated, but he was still a mere boy of thirteen. He didn’t understand the body’s natural reactions to things. He didn’t know that even a woman grew wet during a rape to protect her body from further damage. He only knew how wrong this all was. He knew that it was a sin, that it was dirty, filthy, disgusting—wrong!

Whimpering, he curled within himself tighter. Horror of what was to come built up in his chest, smothering him. He saw a shadow slide through the bedroom and come to stand beside his bed. The shadow was dark, blocking out the moonlight, and Jack squeezed his eyes tightly closed to will the darkness away. Fear blossomed the depths of his body, making him tremble.

“Poor boy,” an accented voice murmured. “A child should never fear a parent or guardian.”

There was a light touch on Jack’s hair. It was soothing, but did nothing to assuage the fear in the boy’s chest. Heavy darkness fell over him and then sleep came for him greedily. Though he had expected to have nightmares, none came. There were only golden dreams of his happy family and his loving parents and his beautiful sister. But when he woke in the morning, the horror still waited.

…

“Take off your clothes, Jackson,” Caleb said the moment the bedroom door was closed at Jack’s back.

For a moment, Jack froze like a deer in a hunter’s sight. His hands flew to clench in the material of his shirt, knuckles whitening. His heart hammered and crippling fear filled his chest like stones being laid over everything. He was unable to draw in a deep enough breath.

“Do I have to tell you again?” Caleb asked the boy, folding his arms over his chest.

With a gasp of frightened air, Jack shook his head, stepping away from the door to move closer to Caleb. His fingers trembled as he pulled his shirt over his head and unfastened his trousers. The pants pooled at his feet even as he clutched the shirt over his nudity. 

“Drop that shirt. Come closer,” Caleb continued. “Lie face down on the bed.”

Jack had no choice but to obey. The shirt felt like a piece of him as he dropped it. He felt as if it shattered when it hit the floor even though it fell quietly and certainly did not break. His last refuge gone, Jack walked naked to Caleb’s bed. The preacher stared at him as he moved, smirking. 

Jack’s fingers tangled in the sheets as he lay down on the bed. He buried his face into the straw mattress, but the smell was just as terrible as what was to come. He turned his head to the side, drawing in a shaking breath as Caleb approached like a stalking predator. 

“Lovely,” Caleb breathed out as his hands skimmed over Jack’s body.

The boy flinched, biting his lip to silence a little whimper that wished to escape. Caleb’s touch wasn’t painful, but he almost wished it was. The preacher ran his palms down Jack’s back and over his buttocks, down the backs of his thighs to the bend of his knees, and up again. This time, his hands came to rest as the crease of Jack’s behind and he spread the cheeks with his thumbs.

Caleb’s breath was hot on Jack’s body as he leaned down to inhale the scent of the boy’s skin. His tongue was hotter, slick and slippery, as he traced the crease of Jack’s bottom with it. When he reached the very core of his body, he dipped his tongue in to lap at the ring of muscle. 

Jack flinched, whimpering despite himself. When Caleb’s tongue finished lavishing the area wet with saliva, he pushed his finger inside. It entered easily between the moisture and the slight stretching Jack had given his own body. Wriggling and thrusting, Caleb added a second finger to the boy’s body with relative ease.

“You’re loose, Jackson,” Caleb purred. “Did you put your fingers inside yourself?”

Jack’s shamed silence was answer enough.

Caleb smirked. “Did you move them like this?” 

Jack cried out as Caleb began to thrust and twist his fingers. That strange feeling was beginning to build in his belly again and Jack bit down on the flesh of his forearm in an attempt to block it out. Caleb’s fingers were relentless, pushing in deeper and spreading him open. He bent down again, tongue slipping inside a place it did not belong. For the longest time, Caleb used his fingers and tongue on Jack’s body, but it must have been only mere moments for the man’s impatience. 

He slipped his robe from his shoulders, dropping it in a whisper of fabric. Then, he pushed Jack all the way onto the bed and knelt behind him. He wrapped his hand beneath Jack’s belly, lifted his narrow hips, and brushed against his small member. It was slightly hard and Caleb smirked as he coiled his fingers around it and gave it a small stroke. Jack cried out, his breath coming in little gasps of shame and horror mingled with fear and pleasure.

“Enjoying yourself, are you, Jackson?” Caleb hissed against the boy’s ear.

Jack whimpered out, “N-no.”

Caleb merely chuckled and released the boy. Maybe some other time he would make Jack enjoy his violation and witness his destruction as the lines between sin and pleasure blurred, but he was too impatient now. He pulled the boy’s hips back, letting him feel the press of his engorged member. 

“Are you ready, Jackson?” Caleb murmured teasingly. “I think your efforts to ready yourself will pay off.”

Jack whimpered quietly, his shoulders trembling against the mattress. 

Caleb aligned himself with the boy’s puckered entrance and began to push in. Jack cried out, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the blankets and desperately reaching for some sort of escape, but Caleb did not allow it. He pushed himself in at a slow pace, feeling the tight sheath of muscles clenching against the unwanted intrusion. Jack was incredibly tight and warm. It was nothing compared to his mouth or Olivia’s mouth or any of the other children’s hands. This was heaven on earth.

Caleb groaned as he sank in to the hilt and Jack whimpered when he stopped moving. It felt so wrong and so painful. His body was stretched to its limits, full and uncomfortable, but he knew that Caleb wasn’t close to finished with him. All he could pray was that the preacher would not last long. 

With a slow pull of his hips, Caleb began to move. It was slow at first as Jack’s muscles adjusted, but quickly gained speed until the room was filled with the slap of flesh on flesh. Caleb grunted like a hog, his nails raking into Jack’s hips painfully. Tears flowed down Jack’s face and he was no longer able to prevent them. He cried quietly into the mattress, trying to bite back his little whimpers, but Caleb wasn’t paying attention to him anyway. With a groan, scalding semen poured into Jack and Caleb slumped down against his back, breathing hard.

For a long moment, the preacher didn’t move and Jack could feel his member softening inside his body. He felt the hot seed inside him slide, dripping down his thighs, and shuddered with disgust. Finally, Caleb pulled out of him and let his trembling body collapse. Jack immediately curled on his side, hiding what his could of his naked body, as Caleb reclined against the pillows. He stretched out his hand, running it down Jack’s naked side and enjoying the boy’s little shiver.

“Very good, Jackson,” he said. “Very good.”

…

Olivia was sitting at the kitchen table of the little cabin next to the church, teaching the girls how to knit new hats, when her brother came in. He leaned heavily on the wall for support and his face was twisted with pain, but she didn’t see any blood on his trousers. Olivia immediately knew that Caleb had finally found a candidate to enact his fantasies with. The other boys had told her about it, whispered through their tears at night, how Caleb had tried to enter them. But there was blood with the younger boys’ small bodies. Jack… his body was strong enough for Caleb.

“Oh, Jack,” she breathed.

Her brother glanced at her and forced a smile. “I’m alright,” he assured her. “Really.”

But he went outside without a coat or shoes on, staggering weakly through the ankle-deep snow. Olivia went to the window and watched him through the crack in the shutters. Jack fell to his knees, scooped up handfuls of snow, and began to scrub the exposed skin of his arms until it was red and raw and nearly bleeding. His back was to the cabin and Olivia couldn’t tell if he was crying, but she saw terrible sadness and pain in the lines of his thin body. A short time later, Jack came back into the cabin. He forced another smile, his lip cracked and bleeding anew, and left. 

It had taken all Olivia had not to cry at the sight of his raw skin, scrubbed all over with icy snow.

…

Time passed in this manner. Winter turned to spring as the crocus pushed their heads up through the lingering snow. Spring turned to summer and the children swam happily in the small pond. The leaves on the trees turned gold and red and orange with the tide of fall. Winter approached again, but it would mild compared to the year before.

Jack would be fourteen in a few months and Olivia was only eight.

Caleb had been touching Jack for just under a year. He hadn’t touched Olivia or the other children in the same amount of time or so Jack thought.

The seed of Olivia’s thoughts had reached fruition when she finally approached the breaking point. She couldn’t allow it to go any farther before Jack was damaged beyond repair for the rest of his life. Her beautiful brother didn’t deserve that. So she came to Caleb in the dead of night when she was certain her brother and all the other orphans were asleep and laid down her only bargaining chip—herself. She begged Caleb to be kinder to Jack, to be gentle with him, to stop hurting him, and she would give him her virginal body. She would do anything he wanted so long as he stopped hurting Jack.

And the breaking point for Olivia Overland, the instance that made her sacrifice all her brother had done to protect her…

Just the week before, Jack had bitten Caleb during fellatio. Whether he had done it accidentally or on purpose, she would never know. But as punishment, Caleb had broken Jack’s teeth. (1) Now, her brother stopped smiling at her. He had trouble speaking with the damage to his mouth, silencing his wonderful stories. He was a shade of his former self, broken to the point where Olivia thought she would lose him just like she had lost their parents. And she wouldn’t risk that.

So she made Caleb swear that he wouldn’t tell Jack and she gave him herself.

…

“Marvelous job, Jackson,” Caleb said, running his hand over Jack’s tousled hair in a charade of a kind touch. His next words were a cruel blow, mocking his earlier gentleness. “I like you better like this—quiet—but those teeth of yours are certainly ugly.”

Jack’s lips pulled back in a travesty of his old smile and even Caleb had to admit that the jagged sight of Jack’s broken teeth was a bit disconcerting. A few of the broken baby teeth had fallen out since Caleb had shattered them, replaced with nice adult teeth. That was the good thing about abusing the young boy, Caleb thought, he would heal from most of it.

Jack rolled out from beneath Caleb’s hands and rose from the bed, semen sliding down the insides of his thighs and dripping on the floor. The old agony was a distant throbbing now that Jack’s body had grown used to the painful intrusion. The only feeling that had not faded with time was Jack’s thoughts that his body would never be clean again. He still scrubbed his skin raw and aching after Caleb finished with him before he’d let Olivia touch him. It only rid him of Caleb’s touch on the outside, his insides were filthy with sin that would never fade.

Why didn’t someone help him? Protect him? Save him?

Why hadn’t God protected the innocent children before Jack had to sacrifice himself?

Jack was beginning to think that maybe Caleb’s bitter words were right. Maybe there was no God for orphans. Maybe the sky was empty of heaven or kind deities. Only the moon watched over the earth below, smiling down on them kindly. It always seemed to be outside the window when Caleb raped him or made him enjoy it and Jack had to look away with shame.

Caleb watched Jack as he dressed, studying the slender angles of the boy’s body. He really was lovely, almost as lovely as Olivia. Jack was a delectable little treat each time Caleb took him. Even though the preacher had expected to tire of the older child quickly back when their bargain was struck, he never did. There were so many things to do to the boy, so many positions to try, and so many new things Caleb’s mind thought of in dreams or heard in the village’s confessions. 

Sometimes, he was gentle beyond meaning. He stroked Jack’s small member to glorious completion and licked the tears of self-loathing off the boy’s pale face. It was always a delight to see the boy come undone with soft stifled cries and his long-fingered hands pressed over his mouth and face to hide his pleasure and disgust.

Other times, Caleb just enjoyed taking him hard and fast, lustful and greedy for his own gratification. It was wonderful now that Jack’s body was so well-adjusted to being used and Caleb didn’t have to be very careful. He liked to experiment with pain and pleasure, biting the soft skin at the junction of the boy’s neck and shoulder until the perfect flesh was a lump of fruit-like wounds.

Lately, he had taken to cuddling Jack like a lover when they finished. The boy always writhed and shivered in his arms, torn between his desperation for escape and his hopeless desire to feel a kind touch after so much pain and abuse. Jack was usually pliant and warm like a woman for a few minutes before he would push away from Caleb and leave the bed cold. Jack had done such a thing now.

“Jackson,” Caleb called when the boy reached the door and prepared to leave.

Jack stopped, his hand gripping the knob tightly, and turned to face Caleb. “What?” he said, his words garbled slightly. Usually, Jack rarely spoke, but this must have been his way of spitting in Caleb’s face after the preacher had said he liked Jack quiet.

Caleb smirked, amused by the boy. “Why don’t you catch a rabbit for supper tonight? The children would surely like some meat. It isn’t very fair that only you get to enjoy it.” He ran his hand over his flaccid manhood, grinning like a skull.

Jack’s eyes narrowed into slits, his lips pulling back over his hideous teeth like an animal. “If you touch them, I’ll kill you.” 

There was true hatred and terrible promise in those words that sent a chill down Caleb’s spine. He suddenly wondered if Jack truly would murder him if he ever found out that Olivia had offered herself in exchange for Jack to no longer be hurt badly. Murder was a sin, but Jackson had stopped protesting about virtue and God months ago. The boy was the perfect little whore.

Caleb met Jack’s fierce gaze and held it, surprised when the boy didn’t look away. He continued to stare into Caleb and it was like the Devil was looking back. The boy’s brown eyes were dark pits and his lips were a terrible smile over broken teeth. Caleb wanted to look away, but he felt that it would be like turning his back on a wolf. So he just held Jack’s eyes—that glare, that hatred…

“Jack!” Olivia’s voice rocked through the cabin like a warning bell. “Jack! Come downstairs!”

Then, they both heard the sounds of the children running up the stairs. Jack had always made certain the children would never see him in Caleb’s clutches, naked and defiled, and he tried not to let them see him soon after when he still felt so broken, but that wasn’t an option now. 

He turned away from Caleb, his features morphing into a cheerful close-lipped smile as he opened the door. Caleb glimpsed a few of the children’s faces peering curiously through the threshold, but Jack had slammed the door before they could see anything of the preacher’s nudity still splayed out on the bed. Caleb heard the boy’s voice change from animalistic rage to a gentle cheerfulness and he could have slapped himself for all his worry.

Jack would never be able to raise a finger against him. The boy was too kind, too selfless, too gentle. 

His words were but an empty threat—even if they had been a good menace… for a moment.

…

After Jack came out of Caleb’s room, he encouraged all the children to dress for a little warmth in the chilled fall air and took them hunting with him. Something in the way he kept his eyes on all of them and glanced over his shoulder frequently made Olivia think that Caleb had threatened something terrible to her precious brother. While he hunted for rabbits and set the children picking the last of fall’s lingering nuts and berries, Olivia thought about what she had to do for him—to protect him, to make sure Caleb didn’t damage him further.

Jack returned a while later, smiling that sad close-lipped smile of his, with two rabbits. He gathered up the children in easy silence and Olivia knew he saw the sadness with which the children all gazed at him. They knew what he was doing to protect them, not that it had ever been a secret, but they were now reaching an age where they could understand the depths of Jack’s sacrifice. They worked twice as hard at the things he asked of them and tried to do little things to help him and they always smiled for him, but it was all for naught. 

Caleb was still cruel to Jack, still raped him, still tortured him. 

Tears threatened to well in Olivia’s eyes and her grip on the handle of her woven basket of berries tightened. Since she was growing older, she supposed she understood the preacher’s need for sexual release, but she didn’t know why he had to viciously harm her brother to enjoy himself. Why did Caleb have to hurt Jack so badly? Why did he break his teeth and inflict that knot of hideous scarring at the junction of his neck? Why did he have to take Jack so hard that she sometimes heard her brother scream softly or had to watch him limp the next day?

“Olivia,” Jack whispered. His hand pressed into the small of her back and she realized that she’d stopped walking. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly and smiled up at her brother. “Just thinking about the pond. I hope it freezes early this year so we can spend some time ice skating.”

Jack glanced over at the little pond. “Yeah,” he said softly, absently. “That’d be nice.”

“You’ll teach Johnny and Jacob how to swim this summer, right?” Olivia asked, giving Jack something to look forward too because she hated to see that hopelessness in his face. “That way we can all swim rather than sticking to the shallows like we had to last summer, right?”

Jack’s eyes brightened even if his smile was still a pale shadow on his face. “Yeah,” he said and ruffled Olivia’s hair. “Of course I will.” 

Then, he rummaged through the small satchel he carried whenever they went hunting and fished out a small pan flute that he had made from pond reeds after his teeth were broken. Unable to tell long stories well anymore with his speaking damaged, he now played short little songs instead. The children would dance and Olivia tried to sing but she wasn’t very good. Jack’s eyes lit with happiness as he played and Olivia’s heart soared. This was the brother she wanted to preserve and protect. 

But then the cabin came into view and Caleb was standing at the threshold, smiling like the cat that had eaten a canary, and Jack’s song sputtered out. The laughter and happiness went with it, falling silent save the wind rustling through the trees. The children quieted, little fingers brushing Jack’s legs with concern. 

Olivia met Caleb’s eyes, hoping he saw her rage. But if he did, he ignored it. Instead, he winked at her and Olivia’s heart dropped into her stomach. She looked up at Jack’s face, at the shadows of bruises in this throat and the corners of his mouth and at his wrists, and steeled herself.

She would go to Caleb that night in secret and let him have her again—all for Jack’s meager safety.

X X X

(1) You know, the moment I heard Tooth say that Jack’s teeth “really did sparkle like freshly-fallen snow” and asked if they “really were as white as they say,” this thought came to me. Those words implied some kind of back story, some kind of legend, and this is what my mind came up with. So, along with new life, the Man in the Moon gave Jack perfect teeth.

Questions, comments, concerns?


	19. You Say That I'm Frozen... But What Can I Do?

I wanted to finish off Jack’s past in the last chapter, but that obviously didn’t happen. Hopefully I finish it in this one and get back to the main story.

X X X

Caleb ran his hands down Jack’s narrow sides, fitting his fingers over each rib and over the bones of Jack’s hips. The boy shuddered and trembled beneath his touch with disgust, his skin peppered with goose bumps. Caleb ran his tongue over the knot of scar on the side of Jack’s neck, enjoying another little whimper of fear and shame that escaped the boy. Then, he moved his hands lower and cupped the thin layer of fat at Jack’s thighs and behind.

“You’re lovely, Jackson,” Caleb purred against the shell of his ear. “You’re beautiful like a woman, but… if only you could lose just a little weight.”

Jack was unable to find the words to protest even though he wanted to. Caleb’s hand fell over his mouth, fingers sliding between his lips and pressing down on his tongue. The other hand moved lower, pushing into him, and since Caleb had taken him just a few hours before, warm semen oozed from inside him.

“Tsk, tsk,” Caleb murmured as he thrust his fingers inside Jack’s body. “Haven’t I asked you time and again to clean yourself?”

Jack tried to pull away, but Caleb pressed him against the wall. He braced his hands on it as Caleb kicked his legs apart and made it difficult to stand. His fingers pushed deeper, spent seed splattering quietly on the floorboards. The fingers in Jack’s mouth were pulled away and he coughed weakly, wiping away a trail of saliva with the back of his hand.

“Now,” Caleb said. There was a mean edge in his voice. “I’ll teach you how to clean yourself properly.”

Jack’s blood ran cold and he opened his mouth to protest, but only a whimper escaped as Caleb’s fingers spread him open. No matter how many times Caleb had him, it still felt wrong and painful. Those fingers scoured and scraped at his soiled insides until they were slick and sticky with semen. Then, he pushed them into Jack’s mouth.

“First, you use your fingers to fetch the seed from deep inside your body. Then, you clean them with your mouth.”

It was worse than when he had to take Caleb into his mouth, but the man was more persistent now. Jack gagged, struggling, but there was nowhere to escape to. Caleb’s manhood awakened with his squirming and pressed insistently between his thighs like a pole. With no other choice, Jack was forced to lick Caleb’s fingers clean.

“You should repeat this until you’re empty inside,” Caleb hissed against Jack’s ear. “Just like this, Jackson.”

Again, his fingers delved in and then he forced them into Jack’s mouth. The boy’s broken teeth scraped painfully over his knuckles, but there was nothing Jack could do to further resist. He whimpered softly, sickened by the taste. Caleb laughed against his neck, teeth carving into the scarred flesh there.

“Well, Jackson, how does it taste? Do you like it?” 

Jack didn’t answer, fighting back the urge to vomit.

Caleb pinched the soft skin of Jack’s belly. “I think we’ll make this your new diet. You should lose weight in no time,” he hissed. “I wonder if Olivia will notice that you’ve stopped eating her delectable cooking. Don’t worry… I’ll help you so she won’t notice. You can live off my seed until your body is perfect.”

Caleb sucked blood from the wound on the back of Jack’s shoulder and pushed his fingers deeper into the boy’s mouth, gagging him. “Well, Jackson, answer me.” He removed his wet fingers from Jack’s mouth and wrapped them over the pale column of the boy’s throat. “Tell me how it tastes.”

“Taste it yourself,” Jack hissed out, his nails raking into the wall.

Caleb barked a laugh. He wasn’t surprised by Jack’s answer—occasionally the boy proved to still have a little fight let in him. In fact, he rather enjoyed these little fits of protest and fierceness. It was just like having Jack’s virginal body spread before him again. “Oh, Jackson, you’ll never cease to amuse me, will you?”

Jack’s hands curled into fists and the muscles of his back rippled with tension. He knew what was coming, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Caleb slammed into him hard enough to crush Jack’s body to the wall. The sharp bones of his hips struck hard and scraped the rough wood, beginning to bleed sluggishly from wounds that already existed on his body. Jack cried out soft before biting his lower lip to stifle his little whimpers of agony.

Caleb rocked his hips, feeling the boy’s body tremble at the vicious intrusion. “Say that it hurts, Jackson,” he whispered. “Beg me to stop.”

Jack cried out, but it was a weak little gasping sound. 

Caleb frowned, pushing into Jack deeper and harder. He could practically taste the child’s pain and fear permeating the bedroom of the little cabin next to the church. He captured Jack’s thin wrist and wrenched it behind his back, twisting it painfully.

Jack nearly cried out again, but muffled his voice somehow.

“Tell me it hurts,” Caleb demanded, tightening his grip on Jack’s wrist. “Beg me, Jackson. Beg me to stop.”

“N-never,” Jack snarled. His free hand fisted against the wall, nails gouging into his palms as Caleb began to push into him at a new sharp angle. 

“Foolish child,” Caleb chuckled. 

He kept Jack’s arm wrenched behind his back as he pounded into the boy. With each thrust, little spots of black and white began to dance in Jack’s vision. It hadn’t hurt this badly since the first time he had been taken. Lately, Caleb had been going what seemed like out of his way to cause Jack more pain, but he didn’t leave any lasting damage in visible places anymore. He hadn’t threatened to break Jack’s few adult teeth or to gouge out his eyes. Jack wasn’t sure to be grateful or feel nothing at all.

He cried out softly as Caleb slammed in one final time and shuddered with his release. He pulled out of Jack, releasing his arm and watching him slump down the wall. Jack lay on the floor, naked and panting, like a doll that had been used and tossed aside. Caleb grinned down at him like a skull and moved to sit on the neatly-made bed.

“Now, Jackson,” he purred. “Let me see you clean yourself… like I showed you… It will be the only meal you get today.”

The next minutes felt like an eternity before he was allowed to dress and leave. 

Olivia had been darning socks when Jack stumbled downstairs from Caleb’s room. His brown eyes were shadowed and he didn’t even see her in his haste to reach the door. When she called out to him, he continued on as if he hadn’t heard her. She stood in the threshold of the door her left carelessly open and watched as he collapsed in the thin snow at the edge of the pond and was violently sick. He retched until there was nothing left in his body before splashing his face with freezing water from the pond.

Only then did Jack finally see his sister, watching him with sadness from the doorway of the little cabin cast in the shadow of the church. He forced a little close-lipped smile for her sake, gathered himself to his feet, and walked unsteadily back to the cabin. He shied from her touch, wincing, and she saw blood on his fingers.

“Jack,” she whispered. “What did Caleb make you do?”

Jack didn’t answer her. Instead, he drew a glass of water from the pump and drained it in one long gulp. Even after he finished a second and part of a third, he still wiped his mouth as if he could still taste something horrible inside. 

…

Olivia didn’t notice when exactly Caleb began to prevent Jack from eating. She was always busy with the younger orphans at mealtimes—helping them cut their meat or threatening them to eat their vegetables or cutting a few more slices of bread. She wanted Jack to enjoy his meal in peace and didn’t usually pay much attention to her brother among all the younger children at the table. Occasionally, she’d look over at him and see his empty plate and smile at him and Jack would smile back. He’d always compliment her on the meal she had cooked for them and her heart would swell with pride.

After Jack’s teeth were broken, he ate less because of the difficulty so Olivia tried to cook things that were soft and easy for him to chew. They had a lot of mashed potatoes and stews until some of Jack’s adult teeth came in and made the going a little easier. Even then, through his pain, Jack always told her everything was delicious and he always cleaned his plate. Olivia was as happy as she could have been under the circumstances, but Jack lost some weight.

Then, she began to notice that Jack was wearing a belt—well, more like a piece of twine wrapped tightly around his hips to keep his pants up. At first, she shrugged it off. Jack was reaching puberty and his body was changing, or so he said. So she made a mental note to sew his pants a size smaller and longer in the legs since he was getting taller too. A short while later, she realized that Jack’s wrists were thinner than hers. He told her it was just the stress and not to worry.

But she watched her brother get thinner and thinner so matter how much food she put on his plate. Jack was shrinking in his clothes, his wrists and shoulders looked like skulls and he kept the rest of his body hidden from her. It was then that Olivia began to watch him during mealtimes. It didn’t matter that the younger children switched plates and pushed around their vegetables. She wanted to know why Jack was getting so thin.

She realized that Caleb was taking Jack’s food and eating it himself. No wonder the preacher had to let the buttons of his trousers go. He was gaining weight and her precious brother was wasting away, but Jack had never said a word to her about it. He suffered in silence and close-lipped smiles, telling her it was delicious even if he never tasted it. White-hot rage took up residence in Olivia’s chest and even though it was wasteful, she dumped large quantities of salt onto Caleb’s plate at each meal and enjoyed watching his lips pucker as he ate.

There was nothing else she could do… because Jack was sacrificing everything he had to protect her.

And though she did the same in the late hours of the night, he could never know about it.

…

Caleb studied the skeletal planes of Jack’s pale body as they boy lay facedown on the bed, breathing hard and shivering in the wake of his most recent violation. His exposed back was a web of bruises and bites, but his ribs stood out like the curvature of a Victorian gilded birdcage. His buttocks were perfect, just the right amount of fat, and his legs were as thin as stilts. His pale porcelain skin was smooth and virtually hairless. He really was stunning, maybe even more lovely than Olivia who was beginning to bloom as a woman. Puberty was late in coming for Jackson Overland and Caleb loved that—it seemed Jack was going to keep his lovely childlike body for a few more years.

Caleb ran his hand down Jack’s thigh, enjoying the little shudder it induced. “Well, Jackson,” he murmured. “Your body is lovely. Your little diet worked perfectly.”

Jack didn’t move save the small shivers running through his body and the slight clenching of his fingers. The starvation the boy suffered through each day had shaped his body into a perfect vision, but it had deprived him of most of his energy. He just lay facedown on the bed like a corpse and let Caleb have his way. He barely fought Caleb anymore, barely even spoke for his weakness. Caleb was starting to miss the struggle even if he did enjoy the long thin limbs he had created on Jack’s emaciated body.

“Jackson,” Caleb purred, pressing his lips to the scarred back of the boy’s neck. He pressed his tongue to a healing sound there. “What if I fed you, hmm? Aren’t you hungry?”

Jack tensed, surely expecting more semen to be poured into his mouth since that was all he had tasted for most of the week.

Caleb chuckled, patting the boy’s behind. Bruises with the preacher’s fingerprints within them marked Jack’s pale flesh there and between his thighs. “No, Jackson,” he continued. “I will allow you a little food. How does that sound?”

Jack’s arms trembled as he pushed himself into a sitting position and glared into Caleb’s face. That was all he managed anymore—fierce glares and ugly smiles intermingled with desperate attempts to persuade the orphans and his sister that he was doing just fine regardless of the state of his body and mind. He no longer wasted precious energy on fighting the inevitable. 

“Tsk,” Caleb scolded. “You think you’d want some of your lovely sister’s cooking. Aren’t you hungry, Jackson?”

His tongue snaked out, wetting his lips, but he didn’t move to speak.

Caleb sighed. “I don’t know what you want if you don’t tell me, Jackson.”

“Yes,” the boy said finally. 

Caleb grinned like a skull, but took a small tin of shortbread from his nightstand. He removed the lid and offered them to Jack, watching the boy’s hands shake as he accepted one. He sat there, smiling, and let the boy eat his fill. Then, he took him again and enjoyed Jack’s deliciously revived struggles as he tried to take him in a new position. Jack was unwilling to ride him, to accept any pleasure, and it was always the most delicious when Caleb forced the boy to do so.

He pushed into Jack’s body at a sharp angle, feeling the sheath of muscles clench and ripple around his manhood. Jack cried out softly, his nails digging into Caleb’s shoulders, as the preacher struck a place inside his young body that made him see stars. The boy trembled, biting his lower lip in an attempt to stifle his small cries or else to block out the pleasure he felt with pain. Jack’s flaccid member began to rise like a fern in spring’s fresh light.

“Please stop,” the boy choked out. He struggled weakly in Caleb’s grasp. “Let me go.”

Caleb hushed him. “Just enjoy it, Jackson. Enjoy it.”

Tears gathered in the corners of Jack’s eyes, sliding down his cheeks with shame and pain. Caleb smirked as he wrapped his fingers around the boy’s small member and began to stroke in time with his deep thrusts. It was an easy matter to make Jack come undone, plumes of pearly seed splattering between them. Jack collapsed against Caleb, panting and weeping silently. Caleb drove in harder, feeling Jack’s insides shudder with his orgasm. 

He groaned as he emptied himself into Jack. He ran his fingers through the spent seed on the boy’s chest and made him taste his own release. Jack only struggled a little bit, knowing there was no escape as Caleb’s fingers forced their way into his mouth. The taste was just as terrible as it had been the first time.

The boy whimpered quietly as Caleb began to soften inside him and spent seed began to drip from his core. Caleb’s fingers probed in deep, thrusting against that place inside Jack. He chuckled, teeth digging into the knot of scar at Jack’s throat as the boy began to harden shamefully. He liked to leave Jack like that—so clearly used with a little problem between his legs and seed still seeping from inside him. He enjoyed watching the boy suffer in shame and agony.

“Go ahead, Jackson,” Caleb purred when Jack’s pale hands wandered a shameful path between his legs.

The boy immediately snatched his hands back, fisting them in the soiled sheets. He would never touch himself no matter how desperate Caleb left him. The moment he was able to, Jack went outside into the cold and waited for his body to relax. Caleb liked to watch him from the window, shivering and scrubbing himself with snow or water from the little pond in a desperate attempt to clean himself of the traces of violation.

Caleb laughed against the shell of Jack’s ear. “You’ll never be rid of what I’ve done to you,” he whispered.

Jack was silent, but the quickening of his tears were answer enough. 

“Who would ever want you after how I’ve used you so thoroughly?” Caleb hissed. “No one will ever want you, Jackson. You’ll never be clean or free of me. You’ll always be my little whore.”

Jack whimpered and tried to pull away. Caleb released him smoothly, letting the boy crash off the bed and onto the hardwood floor. Jack yelped, the flesh of his naked side chafing off on the rough wood when he hit. Weakly, still crying, the boy crawled from the bed to where his clothes lay in a heap. He dressed with shaking hands and pulled himself to his feet. Without looking back, he fled the bedroom.

Chuckling, Caleb moved to stand at the window and watch the boy’s pathetic attempts to cleanse himself of what had been done to him.

…

It was late that night when it happened.

Jack wasn’t certain what woke him, but in hindsight he thought it was the hunger. His stomach was always growling lately, but it was incredibly bad that night because Caleb had finally given him something real to eat and his body was greedy for more. Jack tried to convince himself to go back to sleep, but there was no hope. His body felt as if it was devouring itself and it practically was. He got out of bed, donning his deerskin cloak against the winter chill that had seeped into the little cabin. The moon shone through the slats of the shutters as Jack walked down the dark hallway, planning to fill his stomach with water and try to get a little more sleep. 

It was then that he heard it—Olivia’s voice in Caleb’s bedroom.

And the faint light of a lone oil lamp was seeping beneath the door.

He was so tired lately. His body had been pushed to the limits of starvation and exhaustion, but he only pushed himself further each day so the orphans and his dear sister would think everything was alright. At first, he thought he was within a nightmare. They plagued him sometimes—nightmares that Caleb had gone back on his word and was raping Olivia, nightmares that Olivia lay dead and bloodied in Caleb’s bed, nightmares that tortured Jack night after night. He hoped it was a nightmare, after all.

But he heard Olivia’s voice again and it was broken with tears. “Please,” she was saying. “Jack is starving. If you don’t let him eat, he’s going to—”

“Die?” Caleb said with a cold chuckle. “Then I’d have you all to myself, wouldn’t I, Olivia?”

She made a soft sound, somewhere between hope and desperation. “Please,” she whispered again. “He’ll die when winter comes. Haven’t you seen his body?”

Now, Caleb laughed uproariously. “Oh yes, I have,” he said. “I must say, I love the spread of his bones beneath me. I swear I can hear them clacking together as I take him.”

Olivia sobbed raggedly. “Please,” she begged. “You said so long as I gave myself to you, you wouldn’t hurt him.”

There was a moment of silence and then Caleb purred, “I’m not hurting your precious brother any worse than I’d ever hurt you.”

Olivia cried out, but it was a sharp weak little sound. “Just… do what you want to me…”

Jack saw his hand move towards the doorknob like an owl cutting through the night, steadier than it had been since Caleb began starving him. His heart was pounding like a hammer driving in nails and his breath came in short gasps. He didn’t want to open this door, to see what lurked inside Caleb’s bedroom. Even so, Jack threw the door open with more force than was necessary. It sounded like the bang of a judge’s gavel in the silence of the night.

Darkness swarmed, rushing in from the hallway. 

The last fingers of his desperate hope that this was only a nightmare clung to Jack’s mind. 

But it was too real to be a nightmare.

Olivia was kneeling on Caleb’s bed, naked. Her skin gleamed in the light of the oil lamp with detail Jack hadn’t seen even in his nightmares. There were bruises on her upper arms and hips and there was fresh bite on her shoulder. Her favorite brown nightgown embroidered with diamonds of red and gold at the hem lay in a heap at the foot of the bed like a victim. Her eyes shone with shock and horror when she saw her brother in the threshold and she quickly moved to push Caleb’s fingers from between her legs.

Caleb turned, his lips painted crimson with her blood, and smiled at Jack. “Come to join us, Jackson? I have always said that you’re better than Olivia.”

“Jack,” Olivia whispered. Unable to be rid of Caleb’s hand, she grabbed for the sheets to cover her nudity. “Jack, I—”

“She’s a little whore, just like you, Jackson.” Caleb ripped the sheets from her and slid his fingers in deeper until she cried out. “Watch!”

For a moment, Jack only saw red and it was a half-remembered thing what he did next. He saw the Bible on the nightstand, gold-leaf gleaming in the light of the oil lamp, and the soft well-worn leather felt like an answered prayer in his hand. It was heavier than he had expected, weakened as he was, but the pages were thick and dense and the blow was like that of a hammer. Caleb was unsuspecting, too busy with his fingers inside Olivia, having been certain that shock would keep Jack frozen in the doorway. 

Jack watched the preacher slump sideways and looked at the book in his hands. Was that blood on the edge of the pages or had they always been stained red like that? The book slid from Jack’s grip and it must have made a loud sound as it fell heavily on the floor, but Jack didn’t remember hearing it. Olivia was speaking to him—she must have been because her mouth was moving—but Jack couldn’t make out what she was saying. The only sound he heard was the pounding of his own heart.

Outside the window, the moon hung in the sky, watching.

Slowly, sound and reason came back to Jack. Olivia had thrown herself into his arms, sobbing out apologies and reasons. Jack could feel her naked skin beneath his palms so he pried himself from her embrace and handed her dress to her. She clutched it to her chest, just staring at him, for the longest time. 

“Jack,” she whispered. “I just wanted to…”

Jack looked down at Caleb, at the Bible, at his bony hands circled with bruises at the wrist.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know, Olivia. Now, get dressed.”

She pulled on her dress with shaking hands and rose from Caleb’s rumpled bed. 

Jack decided then that he would get her and the other orphans out of this house, no matter the cost. Even if he had to act as a prostitute in some sinful town full of witches, he would get them away from Caleb. There was no force on their earth that could make him stay any longer.

“Let’s go,” Jack said and reached for her hand.

She took it, falling into him desperately. 

Jack glanced back at Caleb and saw the preacher’s eyes flicker open. His piercing gaze scanned the bedroom, seeking out prey like a hunter. His eyes fell on Jack and Olivia and narrowed. Suddenly, it looked like there was an eternity between them and the door. 

Jack wanted to tell her to run, but before he could, Caleb was getting to his feet. He leaned on the nightstand where the oil lamp still glowed brightly and grinned devilishly at the two children. He took a step forward, blood shining on his forehead from the gash Jack had left there. Caleb staggered towards them, his breath hissing between his teeth. 

The Bible still lay on the floor, open and heavy, and Caleb tripped over it with a crash. He went down in a heap, his hands curling around Jack’s ankle and his nails raking in viciously. He looked up at Jack and the light caught in his eyes like those of a demon. Jack cried out and pushed Olivia towards the door. 

“Go,” he shouted to his sister. “Get out! Get the others out!”

Her face was pale and lined with fear, but she turned and ran. Maybe she had seen it too—the way Caleb looked in the light of the lamp. He looked like the monster Jack and the children knew him to be with eyes like coals and fat spilling over his pants. He was a sinner, a demon, a monster! The Bible still lay open like an accusing face. 

Maybe God was watching, preparing punishment for this Devil.

But no…

There was no God for orphans so there must be no Devil either.

Jack shook Caleb’s painful grip off his ankles, kicking the preacher in the face. He moved back towards the door, eyes scanning the room for some weapon he could use to give the children and Olivia time to escape. His eyes fell on the oil lamp, gleaming and flickering like a heartbeat. Jack stepped over Caleb with strength he didn’t know he possessed and grabbed the lamp from the nightstand. He strode towards the door and stopped at the threshold, looking down at the man who had caused so much pain and grief to the orphans and Jack.

Caleb was snarling and drooling, his eyes focused on Jack, but his head was bleeding freely.

Jack threw the oil lamp down on the bed with a crash. The glass shattered, oil spilling everywhere, and the flames raced to devour the fuel. They caught on Caleb’s trousers and the preacher began to scream, howling for Jack to save him between insults and threats. Jack watched for only a moment before he closed the door on the terrible sight. 

Only the moon remained outside the window, watching the death of the preacher, Caleb Blackburne.

The little cabin was dry and burned easily. Jack ran down the hallway, but he saw the brightness of flames as they roared up the other side of Caleb’s bedroom door like a living thing filled with wrath. He threw open the door to the room the girls shared. Olivia was inside and they were already awake. It was an easy matter to get them out and hurry everyone down the hall to the boys’ room. Jack and Olivia woke them quickly, herding everyone down the stairs. 

Jack nearly fell in his haste, looking back at the wall of flames behind them. “Faster!” he shouted. “The fire is—!”

The children obeyed, spilling out into the night like birds escaping a cage. Fire roared up at their backs, devouring the small cabin beside the white church. Jack collapsed in the snow, panting as he stared up at the moon. For a short moment, relief filled him. 

It was over… Caleb was dead. It was over! 

But then he heard the crack of too thin ice. 

One of the orphan girls screamed, “Olivia!”

Jack sat up sharply, his body screaming in protest, but it was already too late to prevent it. Olivia stood on the frozen pond, her face lit with terror and firelight as the cabin blazed up. In her haste and fear, she must have run right out onto the pond without noticing until it was too late. The thin ice cracked again and Olivia whimpered, her eyes fixed on Jack.

She whispered, “Jack, I…”

But he was already on his feet, stepping cautiously onto the ice and stretching out his hands to reach her. His thinness and starvation aided him. The ice spider-webbed beneath his feet, but didn’t crack as it had beneath Olivia. 

“Don’t,” she whispered in the too-adult voice she had gained since their parents died and they came to live with Caleb. “Jack, don’t…”

But Jack had always hated seeing her grow up and hearing her speak like an adult when she was still just a child. In lighter times, he had made fun of her for it and acted more immature than he should have just to make her laugh. Now, he only heard the self-sacrifice in her words.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay. Don’t look down. Just look at me.”

She lifted her eyes and tears welled in them “Jack, don’t. It won’t hold us both. Just let me—”

“No,” he interrupted. He took a step towards her, but there was still so much space between them. “I promise, I promise… you’re going to be fine.”

“Jack,” she breathed. Those were the same words he had spoken the night she had finally confessed what Caleb was doing to her and the others. “Jack, please, don’t.”

“We’re going to play a game,” he whispered and forced a jagged smile of broken teeth. “Just like always.”

Olivia’s mask of strength cracked. “Jack,” she whimpered. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I know, but it’s going to be alright. You won’t fall in. You’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Olivia breathed out hard.

Jack saw a long curved stick lying on the ice a few steps away. If he only had it in his hands, he could use it to save Olivia. “Hopscotch,” he whispered more to himself than to his sister. He took three sliding ginger steps towards the branch and then turned back to Olivia. 

“Hopscotch,” he said again. “Now you.”

Olivia’s smile was thin and fragile, but tears rolled down her face. “Jack, I can’t…”

“You can,” he whispered. “You just have to believe me.”

Olivia glanced at the burning cabin, her eyes filling with firelight and fear.

“Do you believe in me, Olivia?” Jack asked her, tightening his grip on the stick. “Do you?”

“Yes,” she breathed out. 

She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, she took a step towards him. The ice cracked fiercely, a jagged piece of it sinking slightly. Olivia gasped, terror welling up in her chest. She looked up and Jack was still there, focused on her, his hands and the stick outstretched. 

“That’s it,” he said to her. “One…”

She dared a step towards him. Only her trust in him gave her the strength and courage to move.

“Two,” he murmured.

“Jack.” Her voice broke. She could feel the ice tremble beneath her bare feet.

“That’s it,” Jack whispered comfortingly. The stick was close enough to touch her, but not close enough. “Three.”

Olivia took another step towards him and felt the ice give way. A scream was caught in her throat, but the curved end of the stick went around her waist and pulled. For a moment, Olivia thought she had died and was flying. Then, the hard ice at the edge of the pond rushed up to meet her. The air was knocked from her lungs on impact and she quickly turned to face Jack.

It had taken more strength than his weak body had to throw her from danger. He was crumpled over, breathing hard and leaning on the stick to support himself. His feet had slipped on the ice, sending him deeper into the pond and onto thinner ice. The sound of cracking intensified.

Jack looked up and there was a true smile on his face when he saw Olivia was safe at the pond’s edge. Through the dense woods, he could hear people shouting as they came to the burning cabin and the aid of the orphans. The entire night was lit up with the bonfire of that evil house, Caleb certainly dead inside. Everything was alright now.

Jack smiled at Olivia and her lips curved slightly in response. A small happy sound escaped him and he turned his face towards the moon. It was then that the thin ice gave way. Jack barely made a sound as he plunged beneath the freezing water and was gone.

“Jack!” Olivia screamed. Her voice filled up the night.

For a short moment that felt like an eternity, there was nothing but darkness and cold. Fear filled Jack’s heart, but it could not dampen the relief that Olivia was safe and Caleb was dead. Then, there was nothing but moonlight. It was so bright and so big. All the darkness and pain was chased away.

Everything left Jackson Overland.

The Man in the Moon relieved the boy of his terrible memories, of the hardship he had been through, of the things he had lost and given up. He took away the feelings of filth and violation, the horror and fear of touch, the insecurities that raged inside his soul. He mended the boy’s shattered teeth and broken body even if there was little he could do for scars and starvation. He washed away the pain and the torment, all the suffering and anguish. He gave the selfless child a new life.

Jack Frost was born.

But the Man in the Moon knew that this blessed newness could not last forever. Even as the new spirit’s feet touched the ice and watched it freeze smooth and hard beneath them, he knew Jack would someday remember. Things like this could not be banished indefinitely. The scars would eventually seep through into his new life. No one who lived through such events was ever completely free of the effects, but the Man in the Moon would do what he could for this wonderful child. 

Standing on the frozen pond, the burned husk of a cabin to his right, cast in the shadow of a white church, Jack Frost looked upon the world and his body for what felt like the first time. The Man in the Moon smiled down on him, speaking to him but he didn’t say much through his sadness for the child.

The boy wiped his mouth, tasting the foulness that lingered. He looked at the semen that remained on his lips, puzzled as to what it was and how it had gotten there, but turned back to the moon after a moment. His eyes were soft and hopeful, trusting and tender, as they once as been before all the suffering he had been through.

A few feet away, the hooked staff Jackson Overland had used to save his sister lay on the ice. Jack Frost picked it up and watched in awe as all the powers of winter swirled from it. He played and laughed with all the precious wonder and delight of a child. He painted winter beautiful with ice and light snow, decorating the wooden cross of a drowned child he didn’t know with frost roses. He watched a beautiful young girl cry, but could do nothing to soothe her and had no idea why he wished to do so.

Jack was lonely, but he was free of the terrible past.

And thus, three hundred years passed.

X X X

Wow, that was a long four chapters. But that’s the end of Jack’s past. 

Questions, comments, concerns?


	20. Aftershock and Apologies

Back to the main plotline!

X X X

In the wake of Jack’s confession, everyone was silent. Tooth was weeping quietly, tears rolling down her face unchecked. She was holding one of Jack’s cold hands between her own, but seemed to realize there was no comfort she could offer for wounds in the past. North, seated on Jack’s other side, merely sat in stunned silence. Having once been a brigand, he had expected something terrible in Jack’s past, but he hadn’t expected something as terrible as this. Sandy appeared to want to say something, half-formed symbols emerging above his head, but they did nothing to break the silence. 

Bunny sat in mortified quiet, his toes curled and paws clenched to hold back the urge to grab Jack up in his arms and embrace him. He didn’t think the winter sprite would appreciate the gesture from him just then. It seemed impossible that any child could suffer so badly and even immortal life hadn’t been kind to Jack. He had been ignored and scorned by his fellow spirits, even by the Guardians, until just a little while ago. Bunny lifted a paw, pulling on his long ears as he was prone to do when he was frustrated with himself, and found that the fur on his face was damp. 

Jack nervously wet his lips, his gaze sliding over each Guardian, and lifted a hand to the side of his neck where the countless bites Caleb had carved into him remained scars even in his new life. He cautiously pried himself from between North and Tooth, moving away from them to stand against the Belief Globe.

Though they all watched him with mixed emotions of concern and sorrow, still no one spoke. It was as if they were unable to—not a single word coming to any of them—because what could you even say in a situation like that. ‘I’m sorry’ would never cover it. ‘It’s alright’ would never be true. ‘It’s in the past’ was a statement that was both untrue and unhelpful. ‘You’re safe now’ were also both false if the expression in North’s blue eyes as he looked over at Bunny was anything to go by. ‘It’s over’ was an outright lie because the Man in the Moon had sent Jamie and Sophie to Jack specifically because of his history.

The silence smothered Jack. He cleared his throat weakly. “I’m…” he murmured. “I’m going to go… for a little while…”

Bunny’s mouth opened, protests built up on the other side of his teeth because the last thing the winter child needed right now was to be alone. But Jack was gone out the nearest window before he could say a single word. Only a cold gust of North Wind and a few errant snowflakes remained to show that the boy had ever even existed. Jack’s presence was often like that—ephemeral and fleeting—as delicate as the snowflakes he created with such individual care.

Bunny jolted when that thought came to him, crashed over him like a wave of cold. Was Jack so lonely that he handcrafted each stunning flake? Or was that just a side effect of Jack’s beautiful powers, like the lovely patterns in the frost? Bunny whirled to face his fellow Guardians, his heart in his throat. “We have to do something, mates,” he said quickly, “for Jack.”

“And what would you have us do, Bunny?” Tooth asked as she ran her hand over the space between her and North where Jack had been sitting. “Do you think this is something that can be so easily fixed by any of us?” She looked up and her amethyst eyes were like the jeweled hilt of a dagger that had seen war and tasted pain. “Do you think it can be fixed by you?”

North laid his hand on her shoulder. “Wrapping him in hugs and kisses will not help him,” he said to Bunny. “Scars left behind by such betrayal and sacrifice can never be erased, not even by Man in Moon.”

Sandy shook his head slowly. ‘Not by anything,’ he signed. 

Bunny paced to the fireplace, looking very much like he didn’t know what to do with the fist he had already raised. “Then what are we supposed to do, North? Are we supposed to do nothing?”

North ran his hand over his beard, turning to Toothiana who was far older than he was. She had suffered much before she became a Guardian—being tormented by the sudden appearance of her wings and powers as a child, witnessing the violent death of her beloved parents, and being brutally caged by hunters. But Tooth still had all the mercy and kindness inside her heart. She hadn’t taken revenge on the man who murdered her parents, instead letting nature decide his fate. (1)

She met his eyes and shook her head slightly. Then, she whispered, “Time is said to heal all wounds. I think it helped me, but I can’t be certain it will do the same for Jack.”

Bunny made a hard sound in his throat. “So that’s it?” he demanded.

Tooth ran a hand over her feathers and fluttered to her feet, gathering Baby Tooth against her neck. She didn’t answer Bunny and flew silently from the room where Jack had told them his sad story. The door swung shut behind her silently.

North rose to his feet as well. He looked at Bunny and seemed to want to speak, but couldn’t find anything to say. He followed Tooth from the room, heading for the kitchen to seek out food to fill the sorrows growing in his heart. He would cook as well, hoping to drown out the pains of the past in his friends.

It was Sandy who remained with Bunny. The little golden man’s eyes were wise with his long life. He knew what North and Tooth had said was true—there was little they could do to heal Jack’s past except to try to show him that he didn’t have to be alone anymore which they already did. Only Bunny had a scar that he could heal. He could apologize for the past, for the Easter Blizzard of 1768 and all the subsequent abuses Jack had suffered at Bunny’s hands. 

‘There’s something only you can do for Jack,’ Sandy gestured. He didn’t elaborate further because the shame on Bunny’s face was enough of an understanding. The little man patted Bunny’s shoulder and flew from the room after the others.

…

Jack flew out the nearest window as soon as he was able, his heart pounding in his chest. He usually loved the freedom of flying and his absolute trust in the wind, but now the sight of the ground so far below was horrifyingly dizzying. Nauseas, he did his best to make it to Jamie and Sophie’s bedroom window and slipped easily inside. It seemed like years ago that he had tucked both children in before going downstairs to explain to the other Guardians what he knew and tell them of his past.

Both children still slept peacefully with Sandy’s golden dreams dancing above their heads. Jack smiled warmly when he saw that Jamie was dreaming of him and of flying. Sophie’s dream was typical of her age, dreaming of being a princess in a happy little castle with a unicorn for a mount. 

Jack sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the children. How many times had be sat at Olivia’s bedside, looking at her sleeping face and reminding himself of why he sacrificed everything for her and suffered so greatly at Caleb’s hands? He wondered if she had somehow heard those thoughts… Was that why she had done what she had? But he shook his head to chase out the ghosts.

He carded his fingers softly through Jamie’s dark hair, smoothing it back from the boy’s face. Then, he reached over to do the same for Sophie. The wound at her forehead was healing nicely, free of the pink Barbie band-aid now, and Jack wished his own injury was healing just as well. He was tired of looking in the mirror and seeing a reminder of Bunny’s hatred and mistrust for him. 

Jamie stirred suddenly and the golden dream faded smoothly. 

Jack pulled back his hand sharply, his eyes widening in shock.

But Jamie rolled over to face him and smiled sleepily when he saw the frost sprite. “Jack,” he murmured.

“Hi Jamie,” Jack whispered.

“Is something wrong?” the boy asked. He was still drowsy, but he didn’t think Jack would be here at his bedside if everything was dandy so it seemed like a valid question.

“Fine,” Jack said with a small nod.

Jamie continued to gaze at him, his eyes hazy with sleep.

“I had to tell the others about your step-father and mother,” Jack confessed finally.

Jamie’s eyes widened and he sat up sharply. “What?”

Beside him, Sophie moaned and both of them fell silent as they waited for her to fall back asleep.

“What?” Jamie whispered harshly. 

Jack laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, relieved to see Jamie lean into the gentle touch. “I had to tell them so they could help you,” he explained. “And something like that shouldn’t be a secret. You shouldn’t fear your parents, Jamie. You know that.”

He lowered his dark eyes. “I know, but…”

“He said he’d hurt you and Sophie if you ever told,” Jack said knowingly. 

Jamie nodded.

Jack tenderly pulled the boy into an embrace, rubbing his back. “He won’t be able to hurt you anymore,” he promised.

Jamie’s small fingers fisted in Jack’s sweater. “Will you kill him?” he whispered.

Jack’s heart skipped a beat. The unforgiving and naturally violent strength of winter welled up in his chest and it took all he had to swallow the words that nearly came out on desperate impulse. He did want to kill Jamie’s step-father, but he knew that would solve nothing. This time period no longer hung or burned their criminals at the stake. There were different punishments for people like Jamie’s step-father and mother. Though Jack wished to in the depths of his magic, he would not kill either of them.

“No,” Jack whispered into Jamie’s hair.

Jamie trembled, tears gathering in his eyes. 

There was a light knock at the door and Sandy opened it. He must have come to see why his dream had collapsed and chase off any nightmares, but he smiled when he saw Jack was already with the children. He floated over to them, studying the situation. Somehow, he figured out what they had been talking about and formed an image of a man behind bars. 

Jamie sniffled, wiping his eyes. He turned back to Jack. “Prison,” he whispered. “Will we be safe if he’s in prison?”

Jack had spent a lot of the past three hundred years listening to conversations he could never be a part of. He had heard about what happened to people who harmed children in prison. A sordid little smile curved his lips and he nodded. “Of course,” he assured Jamie.

Sandy watched the mean smile cross Jack’s face with concern. He fashioned a golden dream for Jamie and sent the child back to sleep. Then, he turned to Jack and signed, ‘Do you wish you could kill their parents?’

Jack looked away, ashamed. “In a way,” he confessed.

Though Sandy understood Jack’s feelings, he couldn’t condone such a thing. ‘You know it’s wrong now, don’t you?’

Jack glanced at him. “I didn’t have a choice but to kill Caleb,” he said bitterly, “if I hadn’t, he would had just kept touching Olivia and raping me. I had to kill him!”

Sandy touched the frost child’s shoulder gently. ‘I said, ‘now,’ Jack.’

Jack curled his fingers tight against his thighs, knuckles whitening fiercely. “I know it’s wrong,” he whispered after a long moment. “I do, but… it doesn’t change how I feel. I wish I could kill everyone who ever hurt a child.”

For one painfully clear moment, Sandy saw the aching similarities between Jack Frost and Pitch Black. (2) If things had been just a little different, if the Man in the Moon hadn’t wiped away Jack’s terrible memories, how would things have changed? Would Jack have joined Pitch long before the previous battle? If he had, would Pitch have managed to overthrow the Guardians and plunge all the children of the world into fear and nightmares? Would everything have been dark and cold?

Or worse yet… if the Guardians had only shown Jack more care and attention through his long three hundred years of loneliness, would the frost child not be suffering as greatly as he was now? Would he have confided his painful past to them sooner? Would some of the painful scars not linger on his body and heart? Certainly if they had only shown him more care, the Easter Blizzard of ’68 might not have been so abusive and devastating for the boy.

Sandy wet his lips. ‘Jack,’ he began to sign, but then Jack looked up into his face and there didn’t seem to be accurate words to speak in that moment. Instead Sandy gestured, ‘Bunny wants to talk to you when you get a chance. He’s waiting in the Globe Room.’

It was clear Jack tried to hide his fear, but the clenching of his fingers and the darting of his eyes was telling. 

Sandy laid a consoling hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Jack smiled thinly. “I’ll talk to him, Sandy,” he promised the little golden man.

‘Will you be alright alone?’ Sandy signed.

Jack nodded. “Sure.”

Together, they rose from the children’s bedside and exited the room. In the hallway, Sandy patted Jack’s shoulder one final time and flew off towards his own room. He needed to rest a little before going out to bring the children of the world sweet dreams. Certainly all he could bring them now would be images that bordered on nightmares with his mind so full of Jack’s terrible past. He felt Jack’s eyes watch him go, but did not look back.

…

Bunny was standing at the fireplace when a breeze of wintery wind made the flames dance wildly and announced the silent arrival of Jack Frost. He forced himself to keep his back to Jack, waiting for the child spirit to break the tense silence between them. It took far longer than he had expected and he would have thought Jack had left altogether if not for the lingering chill in the air that was a telltale sign of Jack’s emotional state. 

Finally, the boy cleared his throat and said, “You wanted to talk to me, Bunny?”

The Easter Bunny turned to face Jack and saw the boy’s grip on his staff tightened. Blimey, the kid still didn’t trust him—even feared him. But as Bunny eyed the many bruises and wounds on Jack’s visible skin, he understood why. “I did, mate,” he said in what he hoped what a soothing voice.

If Jack’s tensing was anything to go by, it wasn’t. “What is it?” the boy asked stiffly.

Bunny breathed in. “Do you want to sit down?” he asked kindly.

Jack eyed the space spread between them. Then, he looked at the couch and how close it was to Bunny’s position near the fireplace. If he sat down, Bunny would probably come to sit with him. “I’d rather stand,” he said smoothly. 

“Have it your way,” Bunny said coldly and could have smacked himself. 

Thankfully, Jack didn’t read into his words and remained standing there, watching him with those bright blue eyes fringed with long white lashes and framed with dark bruises. He was a beautiful and innocent child, a boy of barely fourteen years old.

Sharply, the image of his battered face and swollen eyes after Bunny’s beating in the winter of ’68 momentarily overlaid with the present. Nausea clutched at Bunny’s guts. “I’m sorry, mate,” he said abruptly, nearly choking on the words.

Jack’s eyes widened and then narrowed. His fingers tightened around his staff as if those words were an apology for abuse that was yet to come. “For what?” he asked.

“For everything,” Bunny said. He stepped towards Jack, but the boy moved back. Bunny lifted his paws pleadingly. “Hear me out,” he implored. “I know words don’t mean much to kids like you, but please hear me out.”

Jack didn’t agree to it, but he didn’t flee either and that was enough of an answer for Bunny.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Bunny continued. “The Man in the Moon… he showed me—” his voice cracked with shame “—he showed me the memory of the Blizzard of ’68. He showed me how beautiful the snow was and I know how hard you tried to make Easter better, mate. I know you poured everything you had into it with the hopes of gaining my attention, of gaining a friend.”

Jack looked sharply away, the words striking deep into those desperate feelings he thought he had forgotten. He wanted to turn away, to let those painful memories fade, but Bunny continued—not carelessly, but because this was something he had to say.

“And I beat you,” he continued. “You were so lonely and I beat you so badly. I broke your arm.”

Jack flinched, phantom pain washing through his shattered wrist. He pulled the hand close to his chest, sheltering it, and this movement was not lost on Bunny.

“MiM knows how you would have healed if North hadn’t come to help you. I saw you on your frozen pond, afraid of Santa Claus, and it was all my fault.” Bunny’s accent thickened with emotion. “And when you became a Guardian, I didn’t trust you. I didn’t want you. I still hated you for what you did to my holiday, even though I know you wanted to try to make it better. All I’ve ever done it hurt you, mate, but you…”

Jack’s eyes slid sidelong as if expecting the next words to be scathing.

“But you still helped me. You saved me. You convinced the last child to believe in the Guardians, in us.” Bunny cut himself off, swallowing thickly, because Jack hadn’t just gotten the last light to believe in the Guardians. He had gotten that child to believe in Bunny specifically. “Even though I hurt you so much and you had no reason at all to help me, you still did,” Bunny continued. “And even after that, I still held on to my resentment for you. I still didn’t trust you. I still didn’t think you should be a Guardian. I was still angry with you.”

Tentatively, Jack met Bunny’s eyes. 

“I beat you again because I couldn’t keep my temper in check. I was so worried for the children and still so angry because the Man in the Moon sent them to you,” Bunny whispered. “You’re such a good person, Jack Frost. You didn’t deserve any of what I did to you. You don’t deserve to be hurt by anyone.”

“I’m sorry,” Bunny said again. “I’m so sorry.”

Jack was silent, clearly torn between his desire to be forgiven and his mistrust in Bunny. It would take more than mere words for the frost child to believe he had truly been forgiven, but Bunny didn’t know what else to say or do to prove it to Jack. What could he possibly say that would hold any meaning for the boy he had beaten and abused several times in the past?

“This Easter,” Bunny whispered, inhaling deeply to calm his ragged nerves. “You can cover the world in snow again and this time, I’ll be happy for it.”

Jack looked up sharply, his eyes widening.

Bunny smiled thinly and nodded. “I’d like you to help me paint the eggs and spread them all over the world, Jack.”

For a long moment, Jack was silent. His baby blue eyes sparkled like freshly fallen snow, bright and innocent. Bunny thought that he had mended the breaks between them. He thought he had succeeded and took a step forward to touch Jack because actions spoke louder than even the strongest and most heartfelt words. But Jack moved back, his thin fingers clenching into a white-knuckled grip on his staff as he stared hard at Bunny. The Pooka stopped dead in his tracks, whiskers quivering with confusion.

“Jack? Mate?”

“Why should I?” Jack demanded icily. 

The fur on Bunny’s back stood up and his heart skipped a beat.

“Why should I help you?” Jack hissed, his voice rising as his emotions overwhelmed him. “Because you suddenly feel guilty for everything you did to me? Because I’m a Guardian now and you have to accept it or else North will kick your tail? For over two hundred years, you haven’t cared about me or anything you did to me. You haven’t cared about the scars you left on me!” He pulled up the sleeves of his sweater, baring fresh bruises and old scars in the shape of Bunny’s sharp square incisors. “You never cared about how lonely I was! Or how badly I needed someone—anyone! Why start now?” 

Bunny didn’t have anything to say to the painful truth in Jack’s words. 

“Why should I even forgive you?” Jack snarled at Bunny. “Should I forgive you so that you can feel better? Or is this apology for me, Bunny?”

“Alright. Stop.” Bunny interrupted Jack’s painful tirade. “Don’t forgive me, Snowflake.”

Jack jolted, flinching back as if struck. Awe and shock lined his features.

“Let me make it up to you,” Bunny continued. “But you have to give me a chance if I’m going to be able to fix anything. You can’t fly out of the room the moment I come in. I’m going to try my hardest to keep my temper in check so I don’t hurt you or scare you, but you have to give me a chance.”

Cautiously, as if approaching a wild animal, Bunny approached Jack. The boy met his eyes, unwavering, but it seemed to be more from shock than any sort of bravery or trust. Bunny gently laid his paw on Jack’s shoulder, keeping his touch feather-light. The fact that Jack didn’t pull away or flee was something that gave Bunny hope for this conversation.

“Okay, Snowflake?” Bunny breathed quietly.

Jack’s throat worked furiously as he breathed. “O-okay,” he whispered. 

“Good,” Bunny said kindly and gave Jack’s skinny shoulder a soft squeeze. “Good.”

Jack was quiet in the wake of Bunny’s apology, his fingers curled loosely around his staff and his blue eyes cast downwards. He didn’t pull away from Bunny’s touch, but he didn’t melt into it either. He just stood there in silence, his light breath pluming with faint snowflakes. Finally, he looked up into Bunny’s face and his expression was both painful and hopeful. His eyes glittered as if he was about to begin crying, but no tears fell.

“What is it, mate?” Bunny asked gently.

“You called me… Snowflake…”

Bunny’s brow wrinkled. He often used nicknames for his friends, always having called Jack ‘Frostbite’ since the Blizzard of ’68. He had changed the nickname in spur of the moment, his head still filled with thoughts of Jack’s beautiful and carefully-laid snow and stunning frost. He hadn’t thought it meant anything at the time, but the expression on Jack’s face spoke volumes. Apparently, it meant something great to the frost child.

“Yeah?” he asked Jack.

The boy swallowed, his eyes darting to the fireplace and then the window. “You’ve… always called me Frostbite.”

Bunny didn’t understand where this was going so he waited quietly for Jack to explain. 

“It’s just that…” Jack’s voice cracked slightly and he quickly cleared his throat. “Forget it.”

“Oh no,” Bunny said, tugging Jack back by the hood of his sweater. “Tell me.”

Jack wet his lips, his sweater sparkling with stunning patterns of frost in the firelight. “It’s just that… frostbite is a disease. It damages the body, freezes the tissue and destroys everything it touches,” he whispered. “It’s so painful. It’s… horrible…”

Bunny’s heart sputtered achingly in his chest. “And I called you that—”

Jack flinched, nodding slowly. “Snowflakes are… special. They’re unique and beautiful, not a single one looks like another.”

Bunny’s chest filled with self-loathing. Even when he wasn’t intending to, he had been hurting Jack. His cruel nickname had unintentionally carved away more and more of Jack’s fragile heart, ripping the boy deeper. Without even understanding how or why, Bunny had stumbled across such a small thing that made the lonely child feel better. Would he ever be able to mend things between them? Or was he doomed to this cycle of accidental delights mingling with painful hurts?

But Jack smiled up at him with those beautiful baby blue eyes and Bunny suddenly felt more hope than he had in a long time. 

Smiling, Jack timidly glanced up and then stared down at his feet again. He did this quickly, sneakily, and Bunny could practically see words burning a hole through his chest.

“What is it, Snowflake?” he asked the boy, hoping his words sounded gentle beneath the thick pain of his accent.

Jack wet his lips, glancing quickly from his hands to Bunny and back again. “Can I…” he whispered. “Can I… pet you… please?”

Bunny was nearly sick at heart when he saw the expression on Jack’s pale face. It was the look of a child—painfully small and so young and breathtakingly innocent. Jack might have lived for three hundred years as a spirit, but he was still merely a boy of barely fourteen years old. He was just a child, one who wanted nothing more than to pet the Easter Bunny.

But Jack took Bunny’s moment of shocked silence as rejection. His expression fell before composing itself swiftly into a mask of carefree indifference. Jack waved his hand, lips framing into that too-adult smile he sometimes wore—that same expression that he shared with Jamie and Sophie. “Never mind,” he said with forced lightheartedness. “It was stupid. Forget it.”

“Now, wait a second, Snowflake,” Bunny said sharply. He grasped Jack’s hand as it passed by in another careless dismissal. “I didn’t say no, mate.”

Jack’s blue eyes widened and the muscles in his arm and hand tensed, but he didn’t pull his hand from Bunny’s hold. His bare feet shifted with a trace of nervousness and frost, but hope appeared to be keeping him here. He didn’t speak, as if words would break the fragile moment between them. 

Bunny felt that frailty between them too so he silently pulled Jack a few steps closer. He spread the boy’s fingers and gently lay them over the thick fur at his chest. He wondered if Jack could feel the racing of his heart, pounding beneath the fur like a drum, but the frost child didn’t seem to be aware of anything save the wonderful feeling of Bunny’s warm soft fur beneath his fingertips. 

A stunning smile broke across Jack’s face, lighting up his eyes, and he carded his fingers deeper through Bunny’s fur. “Before my father died, when we still lived at home and things were good, my sister and I found a burrow of rabbits. I know we should have eaten them, but I never told my father about them and we watched them have babies. I always wanted to hold one, but I knew that I shouldn’t,” he whispered almost to himself. He glanced up into Bunny’s face, his expression slight and nervous when he realized he had confessed a moment in his past. “Stupid, right? But I always… always wanted to hold one.” 

Bunny gave the boy what he hoped was an encouraging and understanding smile.

“You… you’re really soft,” Jack murmured. He lowered his eyes, fingers combing through the thick fur and then stroking gently. “And so warm. Do all rabbits feel like this?”

Since Bunny didn’t have an answer for the boy and he feared his voice would break the moment between them if he spoke, he didn’t say anything. Jack didn’t appear to mind, continuing to pet the fur of Bunny’s chest with a soft smile on his pale face. He traced the patterns on Bunny’s fur with a fingertip, memorizing the feeling and look of what he had wanted for so long and was finally receiving. Almost abruptly, Jack pulled his hand back and wrapped his long fingers around his staff. They twitched slightly, mournfully, with the loss of the warmth of Bunny’s fur beneath them.

“Thank you,” Jack said thinly and he sounded like a condemned man who had been given his last meal and enjoyed it to the fullest before being walked to the gallows. “Thanks.”

On impulse or instinct, Bunny reached out to the frost spirit. He grasped Jack’s wrist, feeling the set of the bones beneath the thin skin and wincing at the memory of Jack’s body breaking in his grip. By the look on Jack’s face, he remembered it too.

“Mate,” Bunny forced out. “Whenever you want… all you have to do is ask…”

The haunted expression on Jack’s too-adult face faded into the memory of his beating on Easter Sunday of 1768. “Really?” he asked.

Bunny nodded. “Yeah. Of course, Snowflake.”

Then, Jack smiled and it was the most beautiful thing Bunny had ever seen. It was like the sun after a violent storm, encouraging the birds to sing as if they had never seen the sun before. It was like the face of a blooming crocus peeking through the last of winter’s frost. It was like the spread of white wings, the glow of candles, the span of the sky, the first breath of delicate spring… It stole Bunny’s breath and made his heart warm from the inside out.

…

Knowing that Bunny was waiting to talk to Jack, Toothiana sent Baby Tooth to the Globe Room to watch over them. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jack or even that she didn’t trust Bunny. She just wanted to know that they were both safe—protected from each other—and that they were able to come to terms with the jagged past between them. She gave Baby Tooth strict orders to come get her the moment it looked like Bunny and Jack’s conversation was going to go south.

But as time passed and minutes turned into nearly an hour, Tooth began to worry regardless of Baby Tooth watching over the pair. She was just about to check on them, fearing that Baby Tooth had been discovered, when the little fairy returned. She came to perch on Tooth’s shoulder, accepting pets and kind words as she explained to Tooth that Jack and Bunny appeared to have made up wonderfully. She gave her mother a small summary of what she had seen transpire between them.

Tooth smiled, pleased. It appeared as if the painful history between them was beginning to take steps towards healing.

X X X

(1) This is actually Tooth’s back story. If you have the time, you should really check it out because it’s really sad. I found it on the Rise of the Guardians Wikia.

(2) I actually made a video with Three Days Grace’s song, “Just Like You” to explore the similarities between Jack and Pitch. I’d love for everyone to check it out. Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofA2vBYQa_8

Questions, comments, concerns?


	21. The Oncoming Storm

You know, it feels like it’s been a long time since we’ve heard from Jamie and Sophie, but it really hasn’t been.

X X X

It was the next morning after the closest thing Jack had gotten to good night’s sleep in a long time and over North’s specialty blend of hot cocoa, the Guardians worked out a less drastic plan to help Sophie and Jamie with their situation. 

“I think it’d be best that their step-father just takes a step out onto the porch and a large icicle takes an unfortunate fall,” Jack said. Even as he spoke those words, he hated the fierce truth in them. He really did want to outright kill Jamie’s step-father. He wanted anyone who had ever harmed a child to pay with their life and it was a side of himself that he didn’t like—a side he even feared. That was the part of his heart that drew him painfully close to the Bogeyman, to being more and more like Pitch Black. “I mean,” he whispered nervously, ashamed of his reaction.

North patted his shoulder as he took a fresh tray of cookies from the oven. “Now, Jack,” he said gently. “You know that isn’t the best choice. What has killing ever solved?”

Tooth nodded softly, thinking of how she had never taken her own revenge on her parents’ murderer and instead let nature decide his fate. 

But it took every ounce of self-control Bunny possessed not to throw in North’s face that killing Caleb was the only thing that had saved Jack. (Even if in hindsight, the murderous fire that had consumed Caleb’s despicable life had ultimately condemned Jack to death in the freezing pond.)

Jack nodded slowly, selecting a cookie and nibbling on it without meeting any of his fellow Guardians’ eyes.

Sandy caught Jack’s attention with a tendril of golden sand and then signed to the boy, ‘It’s alright… Things must change depending on the circumstances. Under these circumstances, killing is not the best choice.’

“The world has changed,” North added. “There are now laws in place to protect children. The police will help Jamie and Sophie if we only let them know what is happening.”

“And since we’re invisible to adults, we can watch over the children until this is all sorted out,” Tooth put in. Her many small fairies fluttered around her head in a small concerned cloud. She shooed several of them away, guiding them out a nearby window to do their jobs. “I think that’s our best choice.”

Jack nodded again and finished off his cookie without really tasting it.

Bunny glanced at the kid nervously. “Mates, are we sure?”

North opened his mouth to speak, but Jack cut him off.

“Yes,” Jack said calmly. His pale eyes were out of focus, looking into either the past or the future. “North is right. We need to let the police handle this. They can take care of this.” Despite how Jack wanted nothing more than to make the children’s step-father pay with his life just like Caleb had, Jack knew deep in his heart that wasn’t the best course of action. The world had changed a lot since he had been a vulnerable orphan so he allowed his mind to be changed.

Bunny let his breath out slowly, glancing between North and Jack.

“Yes, yes,” North said softly and stroked his beard. “I supposed that would be best. I’m glad you agree, Jack.”

Tooth fluttered nervously from one end of the table where they were seated to the other. She hated to be the one to burst the delicate agreement they had reached, but she had to voice her concern. “But how can we be certain that their mother won’t get caught up in another relationship with the same sort of man?”

“We can’t watch over the little ankle-biters all the time,” Bunny added. “I want to be certain they’re safe.”

“I can check on them occasionally,” Jack offered. “Burgess is my home town and I’m there a lot.”

North nodded pensively. 

“When should we take care of this? We’ll need to bring the children back to Burgess and take them to the police station there,” Bunny continued. 

“It’s been a few days since I found the children in the woods,” Jack said. His eyes came back into focus and he looked surprised to find Bunny staring at him. “Any parent that hasn’t reported their children missing by this time will be under suspicion for certain.”

“Then it is settled,” North said. “We will take the children to the authorities and let their world handle it. During and after this, we will watch over them to the best of our abilities to be certain no further harm comes to them. Agreed?”

Sandy nodded.

“Agreed, mate,” Bunny put in.

Tooth said softly, “Yes. That would be best.”

“Jack?” North asked when the boy didn’t immediately respond.

Shocked by the concern in North’s voice, Jack jolted as if he had been touched by a live wire. His eyes were wide and as pale as thin ice, but he quickly smiled. He nodded jerkily and stood up from the table. “I’ll tell them,” he offered, but before anyone could protest or agree, he was gone from the room on a gust of cool wind.

North sighed heavily. “And after the children are safe, we will work on healing Jack, yes?”

The Guardians nodded in agreement.

…

Stalling for another breath of time to gather his thoughts, Jack knocked politely on the children’s bedroom door before entering. Both children were sitting in front of the fireplace, playing with a slew of books and toys, elves and cookies, cocoa and marshmallows, that North had given them. Sophie bolted to her feet when she saw Jack and threw her arms around his legs. Jamie merely smiled and rearranged some things (namely elves) within the nest of cushions they were settled in to make space for Jack to sit.

“Hey Jack,” Jamie said gently, easily, as if Jack would break if he spoke too loudly. Even now, he sensed that in Jack—their likeness and suffering. “What happened to your face?”

Jack jolted, a hand lifting to his battered face. With the cold inside his body, he really didn’t feel the pain of bruises anymore, but they were incredibly apparent on his winter-pale skin. “It’s nothing,” he said quickly. “I just… fell.”

Jamie eyed him, but didn’t speak to contradict him.

Jack held Sophie tightly in his lap and sat down beside the young boy. He took a deep breath to steady himself and then said quietly, “Jamie, let’s talk.”

“About what?” Jamie asked in his too-adult voice. He closed to book he was reading and laid it aside, giving Jack his full attention. Then, he smiled and Jack’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want to tell Jamie what was to come next, but he knew he needed to. He also knew that it needed to come from him.

“I had to tell the other Guardians about what your step-father has been doing to you,” Jack began plainly because children were not foolish and often realized things even before adults did. He would waste no time in sugar-coating his words or what Jamie would consider a betrayal. 

Sure enough, Jamie’s face went as pale as snow and he jolted to his feet, trying to put some space between himself and Jack. “You didn’t—! You can’t—!”

Only Jack’s strong cold grip on his wrist prevented him from fleeing the room. “Listen to me,” Jack said firmly. “You know I had to. You know it isn’t right what he’s doing to you.”

“But—” Jamie’s voice filled with panic and fear. “You can’t tell anyone! I can’t tell anyone! If I do, he’ll—he’ll—”

“He’ll hurt you?” Jack said fiercely. “He’ll kill you? He’ll kill your mother? He’ll make it worse for you and Sophie?” He tugged the boy’s sleeve up, exposing the countless bruises on his arm. “He shouldn’t be hurting you at all. You need to be protected, Jamie. That’s why you were brought to me.”

Sophie began to cry. She didn’t appear to fully understand what Jack and Jamie were shouting about, but she knew it was bad. “Jamie?” she whispered and lifted her little trembling fingers to the nearly-healed injury on her forehead. 

Jamie’s panic sobered into a painful calm. He grasped Jack wrist where he was preventing him from running. “Alright,” he said suddenly. “I understand.”

Jack loosened his grip, rubbing Sophie’s back to calm her. “Good. A little later today, after lunch, we’re going to take you back to Burgess. You’re going to go to the police and tell them about your step-father. If everything goes well, he’ll be removed from your lives and you can be with your mother again. Okay?”

A haunted expression crossed Jamie’s face as he nodded. “Alright,” the boy said softly.

Jack squeezed his shoulder gently. “Good,” he said. “And I’m sorry that I told the others, but you know I had to.”

“I know,” Jamie said in his too-adult voice. “I know you did.”

“I didn’t want to break your trust in me, but I couldn’t let this keep happening to you,” Jack continued.

Jamie just nodded, torn between knowing that Jack was right and his fear of his step-father.

“Jamie?” Jack whispered.

The boy jolted and then smiled again. “I understand, Jack,” he said. “I do. Thank you.” 

Then, Jamie threw his arms around Jack and hugged him tightly, inhaling the scent of winter and pine and cookies that surrounded the frost spirit. He melted into Jack’s embrace, feeling Sophie squirm with delight between them. When was the last time they had been hugged like this? So gently, with such care and love? Jack’s arms felt like a castle that could not be broken. They felt safe and secure and, despite the chill of the winter spirit’s body, they felt warm too. Jamie smiled, soaking up the embrace as if he would never feel it again.

…

At the North Pole, one could tell when it was mealtime or snack time by the raucous jingling of hoards of elves running to the kitchen. Jack had been lying in the rafters of the workshop ever since he finished talking with Jamie, crafting ice sculptures of his sister and other people from his past, when he heard the noise that announced lunch. Letting the sculpture of Caleb fall from his hand and shatter into a million pieces on the floor so far below, he let the wind carry him down to the kitchen. 

North, Sandy, and Tooth were already there, handing out cookies to the elves before settling down for their own meal.

Tooth looked surprised when she saw Jack and her feathers fluffed.

“What’s up, Tooth?” Jack asked.

“Jamie and Sophie aren’t with you?” she asked.

Jack wrinkled his brow. “No. Why?”

“We all thought the children were playing outside with you. We haven’t been able to find them,” Tooth said.

“What?” Jack gasped.

‘Where were you all this time, Jack?’ Sandy signed with a mere question mark.

“I was lying up in the rafters. You have no idea where Jamie and Sophie are?”

“Bunny went to look for them, but when we couldn’t find you either, we just assumed you were together,” Tooth told the frost spirit. She lifted her hands to her mouth with concern. “Oh MiM,” she whispered. “Where could they be? You don’t think their parents could have found them, do you?”

“Impossible,” North said. “Adults cannot reach workshop.”

‘Or the North Pole,’ Sandy gestured.

“We have to find them,” Jack shouted and the wind lifted him up. He was about to sweep from the room when Bunny came in, brushing snow from his ears. 

“I took a quick look outside since their winter coats are gone, but I didn’t see hide or hair of the little ankle-biters. I didn’t see Snowflake either though so where ever they are, they must be together—” Bunny paused, laying eyes on Jack. “Snowflake, are the kids with you?”

Jack shook his head, his pale blue eyes wide with terror. For a moment, he clearly expected Bunny to strike him and his grip on his staff tightened, but the Pooka collected himself and laid a hand on Jack’s skinny shoulder.

“They couldn’t have gone far. Now that we found Jack, searching the snow should be a cinch. Let’s go,” Bunny said.

Immediately, stopping only so Bunny and North could don winter coats, the Guardians hurried out into the snowy wilderness surrounding the North Pole. North and Bunny climbed into the sleigh since it would be easiest and fastest to search for the children from the air. Bunny was too concerned to even take time to complain about his fear of flying. Jack, Tooth, and Sandy took to the skies under their own power, circling in a grid out from the sleigh. 

Jack did his best to keep his worry in check so as not to cause it to begin snowing, but it was difficult. Where could Sophie and Jamie be? And why would they run away when they were so close to being saved? Was there more to this that Jack hadn’t seen or understood? He took a deep breath, focusing on holding back his powers rather than letting his worries consume him.

The North Wind whispered to Jack in a language all its own and the frost spirit barely understood even after centuries of being together. The language of the wind was even more difficult and ancient than that of the mountains and the water, but they all spoke names the same way.

‘Jamie…’

‘Sophie…’

Jack abruptly swooped away from his rounds, following the howling voice of the Wind. Sandy had been flying near him at the time, but did not have the voice to call out to the frost child. In silence, the little golden man could not decide whether to follow Jack or return to the others.

“Jamie!” Jack shouted. “Sophie!” His voice echoed hollowly against the snow as he flew towards the forest where he had first found the children. He landed at the edge of the woods, uncaring for the fresh wolf tracks that circled the edge of the trees. “Jamie! Sophie!”

There was no answer.

“Jamie! Answer me!” Jack shouted. The snow crunched beneath his bare feet as he ran through the woods, looking left and right so quickly that he was making himself dizzy. Panic choked him, heavy like a stone in his chest. “Jamie! Sophie! Where are you?”

Suddenly, he saw footprints in the pristine snowfall. He raced towards them, discerned their direction, and raced after the children. The wind lifted him, helping him to fly low and fast like a bird evading a predator. Even though mere minutes must have passed while Jack searched, it felt like hours—it felt like an entire lifetime—but he finally spotted the pink gleam of Sophie’s winter coat and the deeper green of Jamie’s. Silently, Jack flew up behind them and captured them both in his arms.

“Didn’t you hear me calling you?” he demanded of the children. “Do you know how worried I was? Why would you run away?” But he didn’t give them time to answer before crushing them to his chest in a tight embrace. “Why didn’t you answer me?” he whispered. “I was so worried…”

It took a long moment for awareness to seep through Jack’s lingering panic and potent relief. He realized that Jamie was shuddering and trembling in his arms, crying deep heart-wrenching sobs. Tears streamed down his cheeks, freezing into delicate frost patterns in Jack’s presence. Sophie was silent against Jack’s other side, her eyes were distant and she didn’t appear aware of her surroundings. Her lips moved in the semblance of “Mommy,” but no sound cam out.

“Jamie?” Jack whispered. “What is it?”

“We can’t go back,” the little boy sobbed into Jack’s sweater. “We can’t.”

“But what about your mother?” Jack supplied softly.

“No,” Jamie wailed. “She’ll hate us. She loves that man more than she loves us. She’ll hate us if he’s sent away. She’ll kill us!”

Jack pressed Jamie closer as if he could pull both children into the safety of his body. He didn’t want to believe what he was hearing, but those words struck a painful chord inside his own badly-damaged heart. His own mother had committed suicide after the death of her husband. Her children hadn’t been enough for her and she had abandoned them. It was easy for Jack to absorb what Jamie said. He knew parents often didn’t protect or love their children as they were supposed to and here was another blinding and painful reminder.

“Does she know what he’s doing to you?” Jack breathed into Jamie’s hair.

The boy sniffled, nodding into Jack’s chest. “Sometimes… she helps him… She held me down when he—” Jamie broke off, his voice cracking like glass.

Rage filled Jack’s heart and winter whipped up into a maelstrom around him. How dare these parents—!

The golden glow of Sandy approached over the dark pines and the little man landed a few feet from Jack. He formed an umbrella out of Dreamsand, hiding behind it until Jack calmed the raging weather. He looked at Jack and the children with concern, but didn’t raise any symbols to question him.

“Change in plans,” Jack said with thinly-veiled anger. He pulled both children tighter into his arms, hitching them close as the wind lifted him into the sky. He didn’t give Sandy any more explanation than that and was quickly gone into the gathering storm clouds. 

Sandy could only hope that the frost spirit had returned to the workshop and not gone off on his own with the children. Quickly, he told each of his fellow Guardians that Jack had found the children, but he couldn’t tell them more than that. 

Overhead, spurred on by Jack’s emotions, a hideous blizzard began to form.

Jack had always warred with his natural care-giving nature and the potent power of winter that lived inside of him. Winter was not a gentle season—it caused many deaths, froze new life, and forced animals into hibernation. As Pitch had said, the dark and cold were made to go together and Jack often felt their closeness breathing down his neck. In the moments that he was most angry, he felt the hair-thin line between the natural fierceness of winter and his own frigid rage the best. Maybe Jack was more of a nightmare creature than a Guardian after all. 

Now, he returned the children to their room at North’s workshop and made quick work of turning their bedroom into a veritable fortress that no one save him would be able to enter. He froze the doors and windows solid, leaving small sections open for warm air and other niceties to be passed through, but he would not allow his fellow Guardians to get too close to the children now. He wanted to be certain they were safe from any outside threats before he took care of the ones that struck closest to home.

“Stay here,” Jack said to both children. “You’ll be safe until I come back.”

“What are you going to do?” Jamie asked. His small hands were clenched into fists and bruises stood out sharply on his exposed wrists. Seated on the bed behind him, Sophie’s eyes were still far-seeing and she was gazing at the floor brokenly. 

Fresh rage swelled in Jack’s heart, but he quickly embraced Jamie without answering. Instead, he repeated, “You’ll be safe here. I’ll be back soon.”

“Jack!” Jamie shouted.

But Jack did not hesitate. He blew from the room in a gust of freezing air and a wall of ice barricaded the doorway at his back. The other Guardians had not yet returned from their search and for that Jack was grateful. He left without any problems or distractions, without North trying to stop him or Tooth trying to hug him, without Sandy trying to understand his feelings in silence or Bunny trying to attack him with concern and rage. Jack flew swifter than ever before with the biting aid of the storm-laden wind to Burgess.

X X X

Oh no, what is Jack going to do now?

Questions, comments, concerns?


	22. Revenge

I really loved writing this chapter.

For Goshikku. How is it inside my head?

X X X

A terrible winter thunderstorm brewed overhead, flaring with lightening and the pounding heartbeat of thunder. Each snowflake was like a stinging razor, lashing down on the wind with painful otherworldly purpose. Jack Frost landed on the roof of the Bennett house soundlessly, his shadow long and thin like his staff and he felt just as much a weapon as his trusted conduit. He peered into the windows and saw Jamie and Sophie’s mother and step-father lounging on the couch inside.

Rage filled him, but fear gnawed on the heels of it. 

He knew the other Guardians would be furious with him if they knew what he was planning and would probably abandon him, but in Jack’s eyes, it was worth it to be certain that Jamie and Sophie would be safe forever. It would be worth it to free the world of two more terrible adults, even if he destroyed the small family he had earned for himself. Hell, he had been alone for three hundred years already so what were three more centuries of his immortal life? He would be fine even if he was alone.

But beyond even that, he was afraid of himself. He knew he was capable of murder—he had done it before, burned Caleb to death inside the cabin beside the white church—and he was the spirit of winter. Death was nothing new to him, but he did his best to prevent his season from growing too vicious. He didn’t like to see people hurt or dying and yet… his heart was pounding eagerly at the thought of killing the Bennett parents. He wanted nothing more than to see them bleeding at his feet, begging for mercy with their last breaths, just as Caleb had.

Jack shook himself, casting aside those thoughts. 

All that mattered now were Jamie and Sophie—their safety, their protection, their revenge.

He tightened his grip on his staff with one hand and lifted the other to the darkening sky. The clouds whirled above his fingers, whipping into a maelstrom of hatred and rage. The temperature of the air dropped so substantially that even Jack Frost felt the cold deep in his bones. He directed the wind to the power lines connected to the Bennett house with a wave of his free hand and watched as the wind tore at them like a rabid animal. With an abrupt snap, the line tore free of its anchor and the house went as dark as a grave.

Jack’s heartbeat leaped, matching the eager rataplan of stinging snowflakes beating on the shingles. He leaned over the edge of the roof, visualizing the locks on the doors and windows and willing them to freeze so there would be no escape. He blocked the chimney with snow so there could be no warmth supplied by the fireplace, either. It was ironic, he thought as he worked, that he would murder one terrible guardian with fire and two others with cold. Dizzy with delight and terror, Jack lifted a hand to the sky again and called for the storm.

Snow began to pile up, centered viciously over the Bennett house, and Jack’s lips curved into a dark little smile.

“Jack Frost,” a voice rang out from the shadows.

Jack jolted, whirling to face the source with his staff lowered. “Who’s there?” he demanded.

Pitch Black emerged from the shadows against the chimney, stepping over a rift of snow that had already built up in the mere moments Jack had been there. “What are you doing, Jack?” Pitch asked and his voice was surprisingly soft and gentle. He sounded like a kind parent counseling a reckless child away from something dangerous and full of regret.

Jack took a step away from the Nightmare King, fear blossoming fresh and thorny in his heart. He glanced at the skylight a few feet from his foot and saw the flare of matches as a candle was lit inside the house. “Nothing,” he snapped defensively at Pitch. 

Pitch looked at the skylight as well. “There is so much fear in this house,” he murmured. “Children’s fear, mostly, but now… I can taste the terror of adults as well.”

The sounds of shouting drifted up to the two spirits as the man and woman below struggled with the door. They were seeking escape, panic rising within their hearts. For a moment, Jack was jealous of Pitch’s ability to sense just how terrified they really were. The storm doubled in ferocity, fueled by his emotions. Out-of-season lightning flashed overhead, following by thunder that sounded as if the house itself was being torn asunder. 

Pitch steadied himself as a gust of wind ripped across the roof. “Tell me, Jack, do you plan to kill them?”

“So what if I do?” Jack hissed at Pitch. His eyes were like twin daggers, glowing in the darkness. “What’s it to you?”

Pitch rolled his shoulders. “Nothing, I suppose,” he said nonchalantly despite the powerful storm whipping at his dark robes. “Just passing curiosity. I’m not going to argue with anyone about the delicious fear pouring from those two, but I’ll be sad when it ends.”

“So will I,” Jack growled and another spike of fear welled in his heart. Was he really so cruel that he wished to kill these parents time and time again? Did he wish to kill Caleb again? To kill the man who had cost him and his sister so much in a more brutal and lasting way? Was he that cruel? Fear of himself overwhelmed his anger for one heart-stopping moment.

“Are you, Jack?” Pitch inquired suddenly as if he could read Jack’s thoughts.

The frost child’s head snapped up and his icy eyes were wide with shock and fear.

“Do you wish that?” the Nightmare King continued.

“What business of it is yours?” Jack demanded.

“None,” Pitch said again. “None at all.” He paced towards Jack in a nonthreatening manner, keeping his hands where Jack could see them. “But I wonder what the silly Guardians would think if they saw you now, Jack Frost?”

“You’re the Bogeyman!” Jack shouted over the wail of the storm. “You of all people should understand why I want to kill them!”

“Oh, I do,” Pitch said. “I most certainly do, but I know the Guardians won’t understand.”

Jack panted, his eyes scanning his surroundings wildly. “So what? It doesn’t matter! Just so long as Jamie and Sophie are safe!”

“But what about you, Jack?” Pitch asked softly as if he could read every thought in Jack’s mind.

“Are you trying to stop me?” Jack shouted, lowering his staff so it was mere feet from Pitch’s dark chest. Frost crackled dangerously from its end, fanning across the Nightmare King’s dark robes. “If you get in my way, I’ll make you regret it! You’ll be wishing the Guardians were here to stop me instead of mocking them!” 

Pitch backed off, raising his hands. “Why would I do that?” he asked. “It’s no matter to me if two despicable humans are wiped from the face of the earth. But it matters to you, doesn’t it, Jack? Are you frightened of yourself?”

Jack gasped in a ragged breath, his eyes narrowing further until they were little more than slits. 

Pitch continued, undaunted by Jack’s fierce expression or the raging storm, “Let me tell you something, Jack, about how the world has changed since you were alive. Now, hangings and burnings have ended, but humans may be even crueler. They lock their criminals up for years and within prison, child abusers and molesters are tortured by their fellow criminals. No one dares harm children and if they do, they are given their just desserts when it finally catches up with them.”

Jack’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

Pitch approached cautiously and laid his hand on the frost sprite’s skinny shoulder. “Let them live, Jack. Let justice run its course. Let them go to prison,” he said silkily. “There are worse punishments and greater fears waiting for them there. (1) And you will not have to sacrifice all you care about.”

Jack lowered his staff, looking into Pitch’s golden eyes for something the Nightmare King did not understand. “Is that true?”

Pitch nodded slowly, studying the boy’s pale face.

Jack looked into the skylight again, watching the Bennett parents cowering in terror inside the dark house, clinging to each other for meager warmth and comfort. He might have thought of Jamie and Sophie doing the same, of them crying, of them hurting, or maybe he thought of nothing at all. His pale eyes were far-seeing, as if he was in another world—maybe his past or the future—or maybe Jack Frost didn’t see anything at all. His expression was as smooth and featureless as ice.

Overhead, the storm appeared to calm slightly. 

It was then that Pitch sensed Seraphina’s approach. (2) The clouds parted like the ocean once had in the distant past and from a veil of lightning like a beautiful bride, Mother Nature stepped from the night sky with the Man in the Moon standing benevolently at her back. She was tall and slender, as regal as any princess with her head held high. Her face was long and not traditionally beautiful yet she was still as lovely as any blooming flower. Her dark hair was like polished ebony, swirling formlessly around her body like a cloak.

Pitch’s mouth went dry and his stone heart warred with itself. “Seraphina…” he breathed.

For a small moment, she looked at him and she smiled and—oh, Man in the Moon—she looked just like he remembered. She looked just like her mother… As she passed Pitch, she handed him a single sprig of night-blooming jasmine that smelled just like her mother’s perfume used to. 

Pitch nearly cried.

But Seraphina moved past him as if sensing how fragile her father was. She went right to Jack Frost and laid her long-fingered hand on his narrow shoulder like a mother would. The boy looked up at her and his face looked how Pitch felt deep inside. He was so close to breaking, tears welling in his ice-blue eyes, and his mouth opened but no words came out.

The storm overhead breathed in like a living thing and exhaled slowly in a sudden burst of light fluffy flakes.

Seraphina spoke softly and her voice was intermingled with the sound of waves and chirping birds. “Jack Frost,” she murmured. “Child, why do you call for this great storm?”

Tears rolled unchecked down Jack’s cheeks as he gazed up at her face. With much hiccupping and sobbing, his voice breaking every few words, he told Mother Nature about the cruel parents below and the children they tormented. He told her about his own violent past, his suffering, and his love for his sister. He confessed his fears of himself and of others, his desire to take revenge, and his wish for everything to be good again.

Seraphina listened quietly and lightning flashed in her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was full of the howling of wolves on the hunt, “Jack, child, you understand what you must do.”

Jack glanced at Pitch and then back at Mother Nature. “Is it wrong of me?”

Seraphina smiled thinly and her teeth were both those of a shark’s and those of a human’s. “Is any feeling you possess ever wrong?” she asked him instead. Mother Nature was often unpredictable and not always kind. She merely was and she operated under her own agenda. She answered to no one. “Do what you must, my child, but think first… Be happy with whatever you choose. Regret nothing, Jack.”

Then, Seraphina turned away from Jack and the boy crumpled to his knees like a flower past its time. She approached her father slowly, cautiously, but not with uncertainty. The scent of night-blooming jasmine mingled with the ocean waves and the musk of coyotes flowed around Pitch. Seraphina smiled at him again and he saw his daughter.

“Seraphina, I,” he began.

She pressed her finger to his lips to quiet him and her touch was all at once cold and hot. “I know,” she said softly but her voice was only hers. “You will always be many things, Father, but you’ve always loved me.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jack’s crumpled form, pity and rage touching her eyes. Her head angled as she listened to the Bennett parents cursing inside their home. “That is more than I can say for some.”

Pitch stared up at her, his own eyes welling with tears and his knees going weak with emotion. “Sera,” he whispered, breathing the name he had always called her as a child. 

Again, she smiled. “Thank you, Father,” she murmured. “I’ll always love you, despite anything you’ve become.” She pressed her lips to his forehead softer than any butterfly’s wings. Then, she was gone in a swirl of feathers and flower petals so that only the scent and memory of her remained. 

Pitch slid to his knees, staring into the empty sky as the raging storm calmed. 

Below, the Bennett parents burst from inside their home, running through the thick snow in their front yard, shrieking like mad crickets. They shouted a lot, rousing the neighbors who came out to see what the trouble was. The Bennett home was covered in snow and ice, but the house closest to them hadn’t even been touched by a single snowflake. It must have been a strange sight.

Jack turned to look at them, but he didn’t reach for his fallen staff. He stared at them for a long moment before looking over at Nightmare King who looked just as exhausted as he felt. “Pitch, do you… really think so?” he whispered.

Pitch glanced over at the frost spirit. “Think what?” he asked.

“That justice will take its course, that they’ll be punished in prison…” he whispered. “Do you really think I should let them live?”

“What did Seraphina tell you?” Pitch asked, hoping his voice was stronger than he felt.

Jack shook his head. “She didn’t,” he murmured.

“Then, yes,” Pitch continued quietly. “I think so.”

Jack rose to his feet, breathing in deeply. He grasped his staff and for a moment, Pitch feared that this talk had all been for naught, but Jack didn’t look like he had the energy to kill the two parents standing in the yard with their neighbors below. Instead, the boy stepped over the edge of the roof and swooped low over the yard. Pitch watched as he crafted two elaborately beautiful snowmen that looked just like the Bennett children, Jamie and Sophie. Then, Jack returned to sit quietly on the highest eave of the house and watch.

The reaction was instantaneous and heart-warming. 

“Where are Jamie and Sophie?” one of the neighbors asked. “Are they still inside?”

The two teenage girls Jack had overheard while they walked spoke up. “Yeah,” the first girl said. “I haven’t had to babysit for them for a while now.” 

The second asked the parents, “Are they alright? Why haven’t you needed us?”

“Jamie’s such a sweet boy, but I haven’t seen him sledding recently,” an elderly woman observed.

“I heard you tell him that sledding was stupid and to come to his chores,” another neighbor said accusingly. “Sophie hasn’t made any snow angels either.”

“Where are the children?” one of the teenage girls demanded. “Why haven’t we seen them?”

The neighbors’ accusations and concerns rose into a loud cacophony that pushed the Bennett parents back into their home to escape. Even then, they circled the house, calling for Jamie and Sophie. One of the teenage girls pulled out her cell phone and asked if she should call the police. When she got an affirmative from a man who had once been a detective in Philadelphia, she dialed the station and let her friend explain the situation. 

Jack smiled thinly, looking up at the sky.

“That was the right thing to do, Jack,” Pitch murmured kindly.

But Jack merely shrugged. “Who can say?” he asked. Then, he staggered to his feet and leaned heavily on his staff for support. He turned to Pitch and smiled at the Nightmare King. “Thanks, Pitch,” he said softly. “You’ve been… a lot of help through all this, even if I think you might have just been enjoying my pain…”

Pitch grasped Jack’s shoulder, turning the boy to face him. “I never take delight in the suffering of children,” he confessed to the frost sprite. “In their harmless nightmares, yes… but never in this kind of fear. Fear like this shouldn’t even exist.”

“I know,” Jack said softly. Then, without warning, he threw his arms around Pitch and hugged him tightly. The gesture was quick, ending before Pitch could return or reject it, and Jack smiled sheepishly. He didn’t say another word and quickly took to the sky, flying away like a bird that had finally escaped its cage.

Pitch remained on the roof a while longer, enjoying the fear of the children’s parents below and gently twirling the spring of jasmine between his long fingers. Finally, he smiled crookedly and lifted the flower to his nose, inhaling deeply of its comfort. Then, he ran his hand over his arms, still feeling Jack’s cool phantom embrace. He smiled.

X X X

(1) I think it’s important to say that what happens to child molesters in prison is part-fact and part-fiction. Here’s a link to a short article all about it if you’re interested: http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/explainer/2011/11/jerry_sandusky_out_on_bail_are_child_molesters_tormented_in_american_prisons_.html

(2) As mentioned before, William Joyce (the author of the books Rise of the Guardians is based off of) might have said Mother Nature’s name is Seraphina, but no one has been able to figure out if this is true. I’m just going to stick with it.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


	23. Belief and Family

I always like to add outside perspective moments in child abuse stories.

X X X

The young policeman would never admit to his colleagues, his girlfriend, or his mother, but he still believed in fantastical things. He knew Bigfoot was real and was probably out there somewhere laughing at the stupidity of the humans searching for him. He was always careful not to say that he didn’t believe in fairies, just in case a fairy happened to be listening and fell down dead somewhere. He knew aliens were hovering over Earth, watching and wondering about the strange foolish creatures living on its surface. 

Officer John Love (1) believed even when others did not. Sometimes, this was a painful character flaw that led him to being tricked or fooled by a sob story in the field. Other times, it made him very special. He was the only one to see the fanatical event that took place a little more than a week before Christmas.

The two Bennett children came into the station early that morning, dressed in warm winter clothing. It was strange how easily they appeared like ghosts when half the police force was out searching for the missing children after a small riot broke out at the Bennett house a few days earlier. Jamie and Sophie had apparently been missing for several days before their parents bothered to report them missing and now, here they were, walking right in the front door.

Immediately, two female officers rushed to the children, checking over them for injuries and asking them what had happened. Holding his little sister’s hand tightly, Jamie answered all their questions with practiced ease as if someone what whispering the correct answers into his ear. 

And, who knew, maybe someone was…

Standing behind Jamie and Sophie, apparently invisible to everyone save Officer John Love, was a thin boy who might have been barely fourteen. He was barefoot and wearing only a hooded sweatshirt frosted lightly over threadbare brown pants, yet he didn’t appear to feel the cold of winter. His hair was snow-white and his eyes were ice-blue and he carried a shepherd’s crook in one hand. There were faint bruises on his face and a small bandage at his temple, but he stood protectively over the two children.

Behind this winter spirit, Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, the Sand Man, and a hovering green fairy who could have only been the Tooth Fairy stood in the threshold of the station. He stared at them for a full minute, wondering why no one else appeared to see them. Then, he smiled privately to himself and shuffled his papers.

Belief was a wonderful thing.

…

After Abigail Bennett (2) learned that her niece and nephew were missing, she practically Velcro-ed the phone to her hand. Separating from it even for a few moments seemed to be accompanied by a terrible ripping sound that Abby was sure existed only in her head. Her heart throbbed with worry, pounding away at her bones like a jackhammer. She couldn’t believe that Jamie and Sophie had been missing for so long without her sister reporting it.

But then, ever since Christopher’s death so soon after Sophie was born, Emily had been different. Abby didn’t want to judge her sister for her grief-ridden choices, but she had never liked Hugh and had begged Emily to call off the wedding. (3) Abby had never liked Hugh’s beady little eyes that reminded her of beetles and she hated how he watched the children as if they were prey. She tried to stay close to her sister and the children, to comfort them through the pain of Chris’s death, but to no avail.

Soon after their marriage, Hugh told Abby not to bother coming to visit because he wouldn’t let her in the door. Abby had tried to visit her niece and nephew regardless, but Hugh never allowed her in and Emily never protested. It was hardly something she could call the police about and Abby didn’t possess the power to force her way inside. She was slender and waifish with the long thin limbs of a deer built to flee from hunters and the fragility of a ballet dancer. Abby hadn’t been able to see the children in years…

She had only managed a few fleeting phone calls when both Hugh and Emily were at work. Jamie’s voice was always small and thin and sounded as if he wanted to ask her something but didn’t quite dare. Now, she wondered if he had wanted her to take them away from that house. Sophie, so young, only held the phone tightly and whispered, “Aunt Abby,” over and over. If only she had been stronger, maybe they wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

Abby shook herself, forcing those dark thoughts away. 

She looked out the window at the beautiful blanket of white snow, chewing her lower lip. Jagged icicles hung dangerously from the roof and she should probably break them down before they hurt someone. The weather had been freakish lately and was a cause for concern as well. If Jamie and Sophie were out in the wilderness somewhere, they could easily freeze to death. Just a few days ago, a mountain of snow had been practically dumped on top of the Bennett house as if Old Man Winter himself was concerned for the children. As Christmas approached, it was only going to get colder.

Abby paced her small kitchen, waiting for the phone to ring and the water to boil for tea. She walked to the bathroom to splash warm water on her face, picking at the strands of grey that had shot through the brown tresses at her temple seemingly overnight. The kettle began to whistle and she hurried back to the kitchen. 

She had just poured a cup of tea into a pretty Chinese cornflower-blue mug when the phone finally rang. She practically dropped it in her hurry to dash into the other room where she had left the phone under the lamp beside the couch as if the bright light would help it to have a positive outcome. But then she hesitated at the receiver. 

Was this the call she was dreading? 

Or the call she was praying for?

The phone rang again, jerking her from her morbid thoughts. Abby grabbed it up, her flushed skin sticking to the plastic, and she swept her hair back from her ear to press the phone there. “Hello?” she said breathlessly. 

“Abigail? It’s your neighbor, Mrs. Foster.”

Abby’s breath rushed from her lungs in mingled relief and disappointment. “Hi, Mrs. Foster. What’s up?”

“Cupcake and some of the other kids just crashed their sled into my fence. I was hoping you could help us come fix it,” the elderly woman said.

“Is it broken?” Abby asked and sensed Mrs. Foster shake her head. “Should I bring some tools?”

“Oh no, Abby, I think we just need someone with steady hands. You know how my arthritis is and it takes two children to lift the rail,” she explained.

Abby nodded, pacing back to the kitchen and sipping her tea. “I’ll be right over.”

“Thank you, Abby,” Mrs. Foster said and then hung up.

Abby went to the window and looked out across the wide yard between her house and Mrs. Foster’s. Sure enough, the little lady in her hand-knitted hat and scarf was standing in front of her battered split-rail fence with several children gathered around her. Abby recognized Cupcake by her outrageous pink tutu and hand-me-down work boots. The twins, Claude and Caleb, were gathering the sleds sheepishly. Pippa and Monty were trying to put the fence back together without much success. 

Abby sighed as she pulled on her winter coat and boots. The small out-of-the-way neighborhood where she lived was ideal for children being surrounded by woods and rather hilly for perfect winter sledding. The only real flaw was that the best hill led right into Mrs. Foster’s yard and directly into her fence. In the summer, it was a short twenty minute drive from Burgess and its shops and pond. Abby had bought a house here to be close to Jamie and Sophie and her sister, but that hadn’t worked out as she had planned.

Abby stepped outside and trudged through the thick snow to help them put the fence back in order. It was a quick and easy fix that Abby normally helped with several times throughout the course of the winter season. This was assured to be just the first of many. Like the adult she was supposed to be, Abby scolded the children to the best of her ability, asking them to sled down a different hill. The children, smiling at her despite being chastised, apologized and raced off. 

“Thank you, Abby,” Mrs. Foster said.

“No trouble,” Abby said. “Maybe we should move that fence this summer.”

“Or put up a stronger one,” Mrs. Foster said. 

Both women laughed happily, but then the conversation grew serious. The barren trees rattled ominously overhead as the laughter of the children faded into the woods. A cold wind whipped down, but neither felt it through their thick coats.

“Have you heard anything about your niece and nephew yet?” Mrs. Foster asked.

Abby shook her head. “Not yet.”

“I hope everything works out for the best, Abby,” Mrs. Foster said kindly.

Abby pressed her lips together. “So do I,” she agreed.

“If you need anything, Abby, just ask.”

“Thanks,” Abby nodded. “You too.”

Then, she trudged through the blemished snow back to her home. She paused to break the jagged icicles off with the handle of a broom now that she knew the children were out playing haphazardly. Shrugging out of her coat and hanging it to dry over the radiator, she put her tea back on to reheat and then turned to look at the phone.

The answering machine was blinking, bright red like a stop light, but Abby tried not to get her hopes up or down. She pressed play, studying the teapot as she listened as the machine read through the date and time mechanically.

“Abigail Bennett? This is Officer John Love,” the machine said. “We’ve found your nephew and niece, Jamie and Sophie Bennett. Please call me as soon as you get this.”

Abby grabbed the receiver like it was going out of style, punching in the number for the police station that she had memorized over the past few days. She waited while she was connected to John Love, rapping her fingers on the counter restlessly.

“Abigail?” the policeman asked.

She didn’t bother to ask him to call her Abby again, just vaulted into the most important question. “Are they alright?”

“They’re fine,” John said. 

And those were the sweetest words Abby had ever heard in her life.

“I’ll be right there,” Abby told him.

“Don’t speed,” he warned, but she had already hung up.

…

Within the police station’s small break room, Jack had drawn himself up onto the crook of his staff in a show of distinct balance. He hovered behind the back of the couch, peering down over Jamie and Sophie as they nibbled donuts and sipped cocoa with a police officer, John Love, who kept glancing up and smiling as if he could sense Jack’s presence. But that was foolish, wasn’t it? Hardly any children could see Jack, so what made him think that an adult would be able to?

North, Tooth, Bunny, and Sandy had bowed out about an hour ago. There wasn’t much for them to do, after all, as the police combed through the preliminaries of the case. But Jack was as unwilling to part with the children as they were to leave him. He remained there quietly, watching over them. 

Officer John had told them about a half an hour ago that their Aunt Abigail was on her way to see them. “If everything goes well,” he explained vaguely, “you can stay with her.”

Jamie eyed the officer, keeping a tight grip on Sophie’s hand. 

“Since she’s your aunt, she can act as your legal guardian once she arrives. When that happens, you’ll have to tell me everything that happened in your house. Can you do that, Jamie?”

Jack squeezed the boy’s shoulder and offered him a smile. “He can’t hurt you,” he assured the children. “You’re safe now.”

“No one’s going to hurt you,” the officer echoed. 

Startled, Jack glanced at him and felt as if those eyes went right into him.

Then, there was a ruckus in the hallway and the door blew open. The first thing Jack thought about Abigail was that she looked like a deer that he would have once tried to hunt. Her eyes were wide-set and dark, but kind in that way that only an animal’s eyes seemed to be. Her hair was shot through with grey and she didn’t wear any makeup, but she was still beautiful. She fell to her knees in front of the couch immediately, gathering both children up in her arms.

Sophie melted immediately, whispering, “Aunt Abby.”

For a moment, Jamie was stiff in her embrace, but she pulled back slightly to look into his face. Her eyes glittered, but she held the tears back. “Hey, little soldier,” she said. “How’ve you been?”

Jamie couldn’t help but smile. “Hey, Aunt Abby,” he murmured. “Can I stay up all night eating cookies and watching monster movies?”

“Only if I can watch them with you,” Abby said.

Happiness filled Jamie’s eyes and he threw his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly.

All at once, warmth filled Jack’s chest and he had the sudden sensation that everything was going to be alright. Abby seemed like a perfectly nice woman with the soul of tea leaves that only grew stronger once they were placed in hot water. There was no doubt in his heart that she would never hurt Jamie or Sophie and that she would crush anyone who dared try. He smiled to himself, privately, but was certain he felt that officer looking at him again. Maybe John Love felt the same.

But the happiness was short-lived because justice was coming like a storm.

X X X

(1) I’m usually the last one to pull the religious card, but I did here (mainly because there is not a single good boy’s name that means belief so I had to take a different route). Officer John is based on the Apostle John. He was the only Apostle not to abandon Jesus when he was taken to be crucified, but he also was lacking in forgiveness and wanted to call down fire on nonbelievers. (He also is credited with writing the Book of Revelation, which has the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse in it…) He was Jesus’s most-loved disciple. So this has a little meaning for me here, even though I’m not religious at all.

(2) Movie Trivia: What’s the name of the Bennett’s greyhound? (If you know her name, you’ll understand the name of their aunt perfectly.)

(3) Okay, time for all parent (and step-parent) name back stories… I decided to name Jamie and Sophie’s dad Christopher (Chris) after Jack Frost’s voice actor. Emily is the voice actress of Jamie’s mom in the movie so I’m sticking with that. Their step-father’s name is Hugh to parallel Bunny being voiced by Hugh Jackman. So, there you go.

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


	24. Lullaby: One More Try

Inspiration for this chapter: Nickelback’s song, “Lullaby.” Check it out! It’s a great song!

And be sure to read the author’s note at the bottom. It’s going to be important!

X X X

It must have been hard for Jamie and Sophie to talk about the horrible things their mother and step-father had done to them. Jack knew he had never been able to accept that his mother’s suicide had been cruel abandonment and would probably defend her even now, even after all he had been through. Children loved their parents—parents were Gods in the eyes of their children—and it must have been nearly impossible to betray someone you loved that much.

But Jamie and Sophie persevered. With Abby on one side of them, holding Sophie’s hand, and Jack on the other, breathing cold frost into comforting swirls, they got through it all.

The children told Officer John about all the times Hugh had taken Sophie into the basement and raped her and about the times Jamie had taken her place and been forced to perform fellatio. Jamie confessed all the times he had been beaten by his mother, all the times he had been starved, all the times he had been afraid for his life. Sophie whispered in her little broken voice about the dolls and the touches and how her mother never protected her. She whispered instead that Jamie had tried his best and that Jamie was often hurt far more than she was.

Jamie told Officer John about the day he had taken his sister and run away, leaving out choice parts about going to the North Pole and meeting Jack Frost. Hugh had convinced Emily that they could be happy if only they didn’t have her children to deal with. Emily had agreed to help him murder them and dump their bodies in the pond nearby. After all, there was a legend about another boy who had drowned there in the 1700s and his body had never been found either. It was as if that pond was a portal to the afterlife.

When they finished, Jack was surprised that Abby hadn’t begun crying. She had raised herself up in that way that Jack sometimes saw Tooth do with her head held high and her jaw set firmly as if to keep something inside her mouth. She looked like a proud queen, wrathful but political.

Officer John shut off the tape recorder and told the children. “That was very good, Jamie,” he said kindly. “You’ll have to stay here tonight. Hopefully by tomorrow morning, the judge will have decided that Abigail will make a fine guardian and you should be able to go home with her.”

Jamie nodded slowly, his eyes darting from Abby to Jack.

“Aunt Abby,” Sophie whispered softly.

“It’s late,” Officer John said. “Since this is such a small town, we don’t have a Child Protective Services office nearby to get you settled in for the night. We’ll get you set up in the back room instead. It’s a little small, but there’s a television set. Okay?”

Abby laid her hand on his arm, speaking quietly so that Jamie couldn’t hear. “I can take them home with me. I’m not going to skip town with them or anything.”

“I know,” John said with equal softness. “But it’s standard procedure.”

Abby sighed sadly, but gathered both children in a tight embrace. After pressing kisses to each of their foreheads and giving them her phone number, she promised to return first thing in the morning to take them home with her. Then, she allowed John to lead her out.

Silence fell in their wake. 

“You can go, Jack,” Jamie said suddenly. “We’re fine and you’ve done enough.”

Surprised, Jack said, “I can stay. It’s no trouble.”

“We’re safe now,” Jamie assured the winter sprite. “You don’t need to baby us.”

Jack sensed that something was wrong, but he knew Jamie wouldn’t tell him even if he pushed. The boy had shut down and closed off like a steel door slamming shut. Instead, Jack elected to agree with the boy and instead keep watch from outside the police station. It would be nice to be under the moon again anyway. 

…

It hurt like a physical wound to send Jack Frost away. The winter spirit had been the closest thing Jamie had ever had to a friend, a protector, a brother. He desperately wished that he could tell Jack his fears, but he couldn’t. He didn’t think Jack would understand. It would probably seem silly to someone as old as Jack.

But Jamie was more afraid now than he had ever been. 

If his own mother could beat him, could allow his sister to be raped, could just stand by and watch as her children were destroyed, what was to prevent Aunt Abby from being just the same? They were sisters, after all. Though Jamie had always loved Abby, his heart now looked at her in a twisted and broken light. How could he ever trust another adult after what had happened to him, to Sophie? If his own mother could despise him enough to murder him… how could Abby ever love him?

Though Sophie lacked the mature words to tell her brother how she felt, he knew she feared that too. What if Aunt Abby turned on them as well? What if she grew to hate them, to wish they were out of the way? Would they be in the same sinking boat as before? Even if Jamie had been willing to risk his own safety, he was not willing to risk Sophie’s. She was his little sister and he would protect her until he broke into pieces like a porcelain doll. 

Jamie wouldn’t risk allowing himself and his precious sister to be spirited away into another living hell.

So, Jamie waited until the police station emptied out and the night shift filed in. Then, he waited until the station was quiet and people starting drinking coffee to stay awake. Only then did he wake Sophie gently where she was sleeping beside him and dress her warmly in her winter clothes. 

“We’re getting out of here, Soph,” he told his sister.

“Aunt Abby?” she whispered.

Jamie hushed her, zipping up her coat and tucking her rabbit into her hands. “Let’s go.”

It was easier than he would have expected to leave the police station, but he supposed they were more watchful of people coming in than they were of people going out. Pressing close to a woman who had come to play her traffic ticket, Jamie and Sophie slipped out easily. The moonlight fell on them like a physical touch.

Little did Jamie know, Jack Frost was perched comfortably on the roof of the police station, watching for just this type of thing. He followed silently behind Jamie until he was certain that the child was running away again rather than trying to get to his aunt’s house. Only then, when there would be no denying what Jamie was doing, did Jack float down like a quiet snowflake to land before the fleeing children. He kept his expression stern but also concerned.

Jamie froze like a deer in the headlights, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“Jamie, where are you going?” Jack asked.

“Just out for a little walk,” Jamie lied.

“You’re running away,” Jack said softly to take the edge off his words. “Why?”

Jamie tightened his hold on Sophie. “Just… just because!”

Jack crouched before the boy, laying his hand on his shoulder. “Tell me the truth.”

Tears burned in Jamie’s eyes and he looked sharply away.

It was Sophie who whispered an answer. “Aunt Abby,” she murmured. “We can’t… trust her. What if… she hurts us?”

Jack’s heart skipped a beat and immediately opened his mouth to fill both children with blind assurances that Abby was a good woman who would love them as they were meant to be loved. Though he had felt that in his very core, obviously the children hadn’t and Jack’s empty promises would mean nothing.

Instead, he said, “Let’s go,” and gathered both children into his arms. It was a short if not cold flight to the small pond that had claimed Jack’s life. He found himself glancing at the trees surrounding it, the memories of the church and the little cabin nearly overwhelming him. But after a moment, the wave of fear passed like a breeze. Jack let his breath out slowly. “I want to tell you a little story,” he said to Jamie as he held Sophie’s hand comfortingly. “Okay?”

Jamie didn’t nod, but he didn’t protest either.

“Do you know how scared I am right now?” he asked them. “Can you tell how scared I am?”

Jamie’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“I know you might be a little young to hear this, but this place is where I died,” Jack murmured. “After my parents died, my sister and I were sent to live with our village’s preacher, but he was as bad a man as your step-father. He hurt me so badly while I tried to protect my sister.”

Jamie drew in a sharp breath.

“One night, I set the house on fire and killed him,” Jack continued. “I got all the other children out in time, but it was winter and my sister had run out onto the pond but it wasn’t frozen solid. She was going to fall through, so I saved her and sacrificed myself.”

Sophie looked at Jamie and Jack saw Olivia’s expression in her face.

“But the Man in the Moon gave me a great gift. He took away all my memories of that time so that I could have a fresh start.” Jack sifted a handful of perfect white flakes through his hand. “Then, I met the Guardians and was accepted into their fold. It’s not perfect and I don’t think it ever will be.”

Jamie’s eyes felt like a search light on Jack’s face.

Self-consciously, Jack lifted a hand to the lingering wound at his temple from Bunny’s boomerang and the other bruises that had been left behind by his fellow Guardian’s assault. “Not everyone is perfect,” he said quietly. “And I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve been hurt since then, but it’s better than it was before. I had to give it one more try because not everyone in this world is like that.”

“What if I can’t?” Jamie asked. 

Jack ran his fingertips over Jamie’s knuckles. “I know how you feel,” he whispered. “There are people I don’t want to give another chance to, but I know I’ll have to some day. I can’t live my whole life without trusting someone. You’re so young, Jamie. I know it’s been hard, but the best is yet to come.”

Sophie looked up at Jack, her eyes aglow. 

“But you have to give it one more try,” Jack said softly. “Can you do that? For me?”

Jamie squeezed Jack’s hand. “I don’t know if I can take it, Jack. I can’t take anymore!” He yanked away harshly, moving towards the frozen pond. “I don’t want to!” He whirled to face Jack, his eyes shining with tears. “I’ll become a spirit, a Guardian, like you!”

Jack’s heart broke and he gathered Sophie against his side as he approached Jamie. He stretched out his hand, but Jamie backed away until he was mere feet from the pond. “Jamie,” Jack said gently. “I’ve been there, but you have to trust me when I say you have to give Abby a chance.”

“I don’t want to! I’m scared! What if she hurts me? Hurts us?” Jamie shouted.

“Jamie—”

“No!” the boy clapped his hands over his ears. “I can’t bear to be hurt again! I can’t take being abandoned again!”

Jack reached out, his voice as fragile as paper. “Do you want to die, Jamie? Is it that bad?”

Jamie flinched, stumbling backwards a few more steps. “No… I don’t want to die… but I just can’t…” The ice was slick under his boots. 

“One more try,” Jack whispered. “Just one more try…”

Tears streamed down Jamie’s cheeks.

“You’re not alone, Jamie,” Jack assured the boy. “You always have Sophie and, for as long as you can believe, you’ll always have me. You’re never alone.”

Jamie peered through his fingers at Jack, but didn’t speak. 

“One more try,” Jack said again. His fingers were right there, close enough that Jamie could reach out and grasp them easily.

“What about my mom? And my step-dad?” Jamie whispered.

“I’ll never let them hurt you again,” Jack said and there was an edge to his voice like a knife.

“Like the man who hurt you, Jack?”

Jack hesitated, but finally nodded. “I almost did,” he confessed.

“Why didn’t you?” Jamie whispered.

“I didn’t want to bring that darkness to you,” Jack whispered because he could never tell them the true reason he had spared their parents. “I want your life to be nothing but light for the rest of time.”

Jamie breathed out slowly. “One more try?” he asked.

Jack nodded. “One more.”

“Okay,” Jamie breathed. Then, he looked down at the ice beneath his feet and fear froze him. This was the pond that his mother and step-father had wanted to throw his body into. This was the place where Jack had died. Fear took up root in his chest. “Jack!”

The winter spirit hushed him. “Close your eyes,” he said. 

It was an act of trust—so fragile, so thin—just like ice. But Jamie did.

Jack grasped the boy’s hand and pulled him from the pond, hugging him close. “Good job,” he whispered into Jamie’s hair. “You’re okay.”

Jamie clung to Jack and sobbed, cling to the winter sprite for dear life. Sophie hugged her brother tight and for a long time, they remained like that. Jack held them both, doing his best to keep the chill of winter away while he thought about his own words. 

“Jack?” Jamie whispered finally.

“Yeah?”

“How could you let me go out on the pond?”

Jack smiled. “I freeze it every year. It’s frozen solid, Jamie,” he said. “You weren’t in any danger.”

The boy let out a watery laugh. “Oh.”

The trio returned to the police station after that, sneaking in through a window as silent as snowflakes. Jack remained with the children throughout the remainder of the night, humming lullabies that he had only just begun to remember deep in his chest. Sophie and Jamie slept like angels, cuddled up on either side of him. Sandy’s golden dreams joined them soon after and Jack enjoyed watching the pleasant thoughts of the children. 

This was how it should be—golden and sweet, without fear.

…

Bunny was the first to arrive the next morning at the pre-arranged time and was surprised to see Jack greet him with a sleepy smile. Though bruises and gashes still decorated his pale face accusingly, the frost child didn’t size up every exit like a cornered animal and clutch at his staff. In fact, he barely moved from his position between the two sleeping children save to adjust his arm as Sophie stirred slightly and his staff was leaned against the wall a good distance away.

“Hey Bunny,” Jack said softly.

“What’s up, mate?” Bunny asked.

“Not much,” he said. “Just catching up on a little sleep while I wait.” Then, in a display of trust Bunny thought he would never see, Jack closed his baby-blue eyes contentedly. 

“Jack,” Bunny ventured, knowing it was now or never. The two slumbering children were holding Jack down so he couldn’t flee from the conversation and they would also keep the boy from reacting too badly or loudly. “I’ve been thinking…”

Jack cracked open one eye to peer at Bunny curiously.

“I should give up my Guardianship. (1) I don’t deserve it after everything I did to you,” Bunny murmured. 

Jack’s eyes flew open and his fingers twitched. It was obvious he wanted to fly to his feet and yell, but Jamie and Sophie’s clinging forms prevented him. With visible effort, he quieted his voice so as not to wake the sleeping children. “What?”

“I don’t deserve to be a Guardian after how I hurt you—a child…”

Jack’s mouth quirked and Bunny could see he wanted to protest his status as a child.

“No, let me finish,” Bunny continued, holding up a paw. “You’re not even fourteen, Jack. I know there was a time when that age made you almost an adult, but things have changed. To me, you’re still just a child and yet I’ve attacked you multiple times. Someone like me doesn’t deserve to be a Guardian.”

Jack’s grip on the children tightened and loosened like a heartbeat. “Bunny,” he began, but didn’t appear to know what to say.

“For you,” Bunny said. “If you want me to go, if you want me gone, I’ll go.”

Jack wet his lips and his throat flashed as he swallowed. The words he had spoken to Jamie just the night before filled his head. But unlike Aunt Abby who had never been given a first chance and was deserving of Jamie’s trust, Jack wasn’t certain Bunny was. It seemed like every time he gave Bunny a shred of his trust, he was brutally betrayed. Even now, he found it difficult to keep his shoulders relaxed and his eyes away from the exits. 

“Mate?” Bunny whispered because the silence was killing him.

Jamie shifted, stirring quietly in his sleep.

“Don’t,” Jack whispered. “The children of the world need hope and that’s what you bring to them.”

“But what do I bring to you, Jack?” Bunny asked. “Pain? Fear?”

Jack’s eyes sparkled like frost laying over a windowpane. “I have faith in you,” he whispered. “You won’t hurt me again.” All at once, Bunny saw the glint of deadly winter within Jack’s gaze and he knew that the frost child was done taking risks. Here was the thin barrier between Jack Frost and Pitch Black. If Bunny were to break Jack’s trust again and harm him, Jack would unleash the fury of winter and Bunny might not survive that terrible nature of that season. 

Bunny took a step towards the boy, his green eyes soft. “Jack.”

But the winter sprite flinched.

“Are you scared?” Bunny breathed.

“Of course,” Jack whispered. “But… one more try.”

“What, mate?”

“It’s something I told Jamie,” Jack whispered. “And now I’ll tell you… one more try, Bunny.”

Bunny nodded. “One more try,” he agreed.

Then, Sandy arrived through the window and smiled at both of them in an ageless and knowing way. Maybe he had been listening just outside the window, allowing them the privacy to finish their conversation in private, but silent enough to eavesdrop. Or maybe he just knew in that way of his. Either way, Jack smiled back at the golden spirit, giving him a little finger wave in thanks for sending Jamie and Sophie such nice dreams. Sandy tipped a little top hat of sand at Jack and grinned cheerfully.

Tooth arrived next, fluttering manically around the room and straightening the blankets over Jack and the children. She was careful to be quiet, smiling like a string of pearls, and earning herself Jack’s flawlessly healed smile in return. Baby Tooth settled at Jack’s throat like a necklace, ruffling her feathers against his skin until Jack nearly laughed. She chirped softly, her eyes and face so very much like Jack’s sister that he wondered if such a thing were possible.

North was the last to arrive, his sleigh crashing down outside the window in a jet of misplaced snow. He heaved himself in through the window and woke Jamie and Sophie when his heavy boots thumped down on the floor. Several elves, desiring to see the children off, had tagged along and rushed out the room to touch all the strange objects. When they neared the coffee pot, North grabbed them up by their jingling hats and scolded, “No caffeine!” 

Both children giggled. 

For a long moment, it felt more like a family to Jack than ever before. He felt little pieces of his heart heal when he saw Jamie smile like a spread of white wings and Sophie laugh like she was making up for lost time. Maybe someday, he could be like that too.

Abby arrived to collect her niece and nephew only a small amount of time after the Guardians had. She had brought chocolate-covered-cherries and some scarves that her neighbor, Mrs. Foster, had knitted and even a sled that one of the neighborhood children had lent her. She hugged and kissed them lovingly and when she brushed by Jack, he felt the warmth of her body even if she couldn’t see him. 

Jack smiled, fingers curling around his staff and he felt the strength inside of it that he had used to save his sister.

Each Guardian waved, bidding their own goodbyes to Jamie and Sophie while Abby talked to Officer John Love outside. They left one by one until only Jack remained. Jamie and Sophie clung to him, hugging him so tightly that he thought he would break. He embraced them in return, breathing in the scent of their skin and hair. Their happiness and belief filled him to the brim.

“Remember,” he murmured, pushing them back slightly so he could look into their faces. “I’ll always be here, even if you can’t see me. I’ll always be watching. I’ll always be with you so you’ll never be alone.”

“Jack,” Jamie whispered. “Thank you.”

With that, Jack smiled at them and ducked backwards out the window. For a moment, he pretended that he couldn’t get his staff out the window after him, catching it on the frame a few times until both children smile and laughed. Only then did Jack let the wind sweep him up into the sky to where North’s sleigh was waiting.

“Well done, Jack,” North said. “Very well done.”

Jack could only smile, feeling warmer and more whole than he had in centuries.

X X X

(1) Thanks to Sheeijan for planting the seed for this idea in my head.

Notice! **READ THIS!** I’m going to let everyone decide what they want to see in the final chapter of this story. (Some of my own ideas are Jack watches over Sophie and Jamie from a distance and sees them happy, he shares a donut with Officer John, he visits his sister’s grave, Jack and Bunny bond, etc…) Suggest whatever you’d like to see, EXCEPT an ending that involves a pairing or a lemon. This story has so pairings and therefore no lemons. I’ll give everyone until Thursday to submit their suggestions and start writing then. I should be able to finish the chapter over the weekend and post the final chapter on Monday. Okay? Let me know what you want to see!

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


	25. Epilogue: Christmas Morning

Thank you to **Kyrione** for the best suggestion of all. I loved it! (And the winner of the poll for what everyone wanted to see in this chapter by a landslide was Officer John and Jack having a donut.) Read on to see what else I included in the final chapter of Frozen.

X X X

Abigail Bennett woke even before the children on Christmas morning. After everything her dear niece and nephew had been through, she wanted this to be the best Christmas ever. Abby baked fresh cookies and made hot cocoa and was just spreading everything across the kitchen table around the mess of poinsettias and scented pinecones when Jamie came in. He was still wearing his pajamas, but he looked more well-rested than he had over the past few days.

“Good morning,” Abby said cheerfully. 

“Good morning, Aunt Abby,” Jamie said sleepily. 

Abby remained standing at the stove, the heat from the oven seeping through the back of her robe. She didn’t move towards Jamie and instead let him come to her for a soft hug. “How did you sleep?” she asked. “Did the Sandman bring you good dreams?”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you think Santa brought you anything good for Christmas?” Abby asked him.

Jamie grinned, taking a cookie from the plate on the counter. “Of course he did,” he said happily. “I told North exactly what I wanted and Jack put in a good word for me.”

For a moment, Abby just stared at her nephew, uncertain of what to say to that.

Jamie looked up from his cookie to see why his aunt had gone silent and his face went pale. (Jamie hadn’t told the police about the Guardians because he knew they wouldn’t believe him. He hadn’t told Abby because he thought she’d think he was crazy. He didn’t want to be that kind of person like a girl in his class who had been sent away because she slashed open her wrists after her brother died.) “Um…” he ventured.

Abby smiled suddenly and gestured for him to follow her into the living room. She settled down in her favorite hideously-mustard-yellow armchair and patted her thigh. Jamie perched timidly on her lap, but she was having none of that and pulled him close against her chest. “Jamie, I want to tell you a story. Is that alright?”

“I’m not crazy, Aunt Abby. Really—”

She hushed him, smiling. “I know, I know,” she said softly. 

Jamie relaxed against her. Abby smelled of sweet sugar cookies, summer flowers, and clean laundry. She was so warm and her arms were so gentle. Jamie hadn’t felt so safe since he had been in Jack Frost’s arms, but where Jack had been cold to the touch, Abby was wonderfully warm. 

“I want to tell you about your great-great-great-great-great-grandmother,” Abby continued. “Her name was Olivia Pine, (1) but before that, she was Olivia Overland.”

Jamie looked up at her with wide curious eyes.

“Olivia’s brother, Jackson, died when she was still very young. He drowned in a frozen pond in Burgess the same night the church caught fire and the preacher died. He saved her life at the cost of his own and a sacrifice like that it not something easily forgotten. Olivia started the legend that her brother became Jack Frost. Do you know about Jack Frost, Jamie?”

The boy pressed his lips into a thin line, but nodded. His eyes had grown very wide and dark and there was a strange expression on his pale face.

Abby smiled, brushing aside the strangeness of her nephew. He had been through a lot after all. “Jack Frost is a wonderful spirit. He brings snowfall that’s perfect for sledding, builds whole snow-families, and dusts the windows with frost. Olivia told everyone that his teeth sparkled like newly-fallen snow and that he was more beautiful and kind than anything in the world.”

Jamie was nodding, his lips curved into a knowing sort of smile.

Abby continued. “Olivia and all the orphans who had been there the night the church burned insisted that Jack was an angel. They believed that he became Jack Frost with all their hearts. After Olivia found a nice man and got married, she told all her children all about Jack Frost. She loved him so much, just like I love you.”

“Why don’t more people know about Jack?” Jamie asked.

Abby adjusted him in her arms. “Do you know what an heirloom is, Jamie?”

Jamie shook his head. 

“It’s something a family holds dear and passes down for generations and generations,” Abby explained. “For most, it’s a crest or a piece of jewelry or even a house, but in our family, it’s Olivia’s story about Jack. Olivia’s story is our family heirloom, because Olivia is your great-great-great-great-great-grandmother.”

Jamie smiled widely at Abby, his eyes bright and cheerful. “I believe in Jack Frost, don’t you, Aunt Abby?”

Abby’s heart swelled with happiness. “Yes, Jamie, of course, I do—” 

She turned suddenly, a gasp in her throat. The window was decorated with beautiful plumes of frost, swirling and spreading in all directions. It sparkled like diamonds had been inset into the glass. Abby had never seen anything so beautiful. And then, just for a moment, she saw a flash of pale blue and bright white and she thought she heard laughter, but it only lasted for an instant.

“What is it?” Jamie asked, looking at the window.

“Nothing,” Abby said breathlessly. “It’s just… for a moment, I thought I saw someone.”

Jamie smiled his little knowing smile, as if he was privy to a secret that she couldn’t even begin to grasp. 

Abby was about to ask him about it when Sophie came running down the hallway in her bare feet and yellow bunny pajamas. Her blond hair was strewn all over her head and her eyes were bright with happiness. “Christmas! Christmas! Presents!” she shrieked amid giggles.

Jamie got up immediately to meet his sister and Abby allowed the children to pull her from the chair she was sitting in. They led her into the living room where Abby had set up a tree with beautiful tinsel lights and settled presents beneath it after the children had gone to sleep. She couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be a lot more presents under the tree than she remembered buying. But when Sophie threw her head back, laughing as if making up for lost time, Abby let everything else go and just enjoyed Christmas morning with her niece and nephew.

…

It wasn’t much of a challenge to find Burgess’s small cemetery. It hadn’t changed much since Jack had been alive, but time hadn’t been kind to the headstones that had been there since before the death of Jack’s mother and father. Many of the names were illegible now, worn away by wind and rain. A few headstones were cracked or tilting jaggedly, some were missing or fallen down, and all were plain stone slabs with spindly flowers growing beneath them. 

Jack had never known why he had been drawn to this cemetery after waking up in the frozen pond with the Man in the Moon’s voice echoing in his head, but now that he had reclaimed his memories, he knew the reason. Though the names had all been worn away, it was an easy matter to recall what had once been written there. His family was buried here—his mother, his father, his own empty grave with no body beneath the soil. 

He wet his lips, weaving his way over and around some ruined headstones until he was standing beneath a great pine tree. Fitting for their name, the Pines were buried here and it didn’t take him long to remember the placement of Olivia Pine’s grave. He had always watched over Olivia from a distance after being pulled from the frozen pond and given new life, but he had never really known why he felt so attached to her. He had thought it was because of her stories—the stories she wove about her kind dead brother, about Jack Frost, about happiness and life. Now, he realized that she was his sister.

Jack crouched down, pressing a fingertip to her headstone and watching beautiful blooms of frost spread across the stone. Her name had been worn away, but he still sensed her presence as if she were with him. He could feel the warmth of her memory in his chest like a second heartbeat.

“Hey Olivia,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit before but I…” He shook his head. The tale of his hidden memories, of Pitch Black, and of everything that had happened in the past week wasn’t a story he wanted to tell his sister—not right now at least.

Abby’s words were still ringing in his head, echoing like a record player, scratching occasionally. 

Olivia had gotten married. She had a husband, had children, and had a family. She had lived a long life for their era and apparently a happy one. She was Jamie and Sophie’s too-many-greats-grandmother. Sometimes, the world seemed very small, but also so very precious. Each life, no matter how small, had such an impact on everything.

Jack’s own actions had gotten him here, to this one moment in time. He had sacrificed himself to save his sister, he had loved her unconditionally with everything he had and she had done the same for him, and he had murdered Caleb. Despite his faults, he had done some good. He had saved her and she had shared her stories with the Bennett family.

Maybe, just maybe, that was why Jamie and Sophie had been brought to Jack…

Maybe, it had nothing to do with the abuses Jack suffered because the past was the past…

Maybe, it was because they were his family and he loved everyone with his whole heart, just as he had loved his sister…

Jack breathed out slowly, tendrils of frost swirling through the still winter air. He wanted to say something to her, to thank her, to tell her how much he loved her, but the words stuck in his throat. He knew she already knew how he felt. He could feel it burning just as bright and warm as the little seed of belief smoldering in his chest. Instead, he crafted a bouquet of roses from ice and snow and laid them at the base of Olivia’s grave and that was enough.

…

Jack Frost was passing down Main Street, dusting shop windows with beautiful patterns of frost and trying to avoid being walked through. He was considering blowing the world’s ugliest knitted hat off the head of a passing grown man when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was warm, so warm, but he pulled away and turned to tell North that he was fine and shouldn’t he be celebrating another fabulous Christmas well done. But when he turned, it was not North touching him.

In fact, it wasn’t any of the Guardians nor was it the wind. It wasn’t even a child.

It was Officer John Love.

For a moment, Jack just stared into the adult’s face. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out. He looked at his shoulder where John’s hand lay, physically touching him, searing warmth into his cold skin. Jack looked at him again, his eyes wide and his throat dry.

John smiled and it was like a spread of pale candles. “Hi,” he said in a low voice so as not to frighten all the people passing by. It was never a good idea to talk to oneself, but it was an even worse idea to do it in public. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee or would you rather have a donut?”

Jack couldn’t speak so he just nodded.

“Great,” John said smoothly. “Wait right here while I buy some.” 

Then, he ducked into a little coffee shop that Jack had always watched through the window without ever going inside. The people sitting at the many little tables were reading books and writing poetry, sipping coffee and nibbling healthy muffins or else devouring donuts and bear claws. John purchased two cups of coffee and accepted a white bakery bag with a smile. He placed his spare change in the tip jar and them rejoined Jack on the street. Jack was still too shocked to move.

“How about we go down the street to the park?” John suggested so that he wouldn’t be talking to himself on Main Street.

Jack nodded woodenly, tightened his grip on his staff, and followed the police officer blindly.

The park was small and many of the pine trees were decorated for Christmas. The ornaments and lights glittered beneath the lovely dusting of frost Jack had spread over everything. The statue of Thaddeus Burgess was standing proudly in a circle of benches, gleaming bronze in the morning light. In the distance, Jack could see the frozen sparkle of the pond where he had drowned and the place where the little white church had once stood. 

“Here you are,” John said kindly and handed Jack a cup of coffee and a donut. 

“Y-you can s-s-see me?” Jack choked out, finally able to find his voice.

John nodded. “I think belief is a very important thing.”

“H-how is this possible?” Jack forced out.

John rolled his shoulders. “I’m not sure, but I’m grateful for it. I’m glad Jamie and Sophie had you to watch over them.”

Jack started to shake his head, but he wasn’t certain what exactly he hoped to deny. He had waited so long to be believed in and the thought that this adult could see him was almost too much. He stopped, looking nervously at John. 

The officer smiled and popped the top on his coffee, taking a long swallow. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Mine is John, but you might have already known that.”

He nodded and said softly, “I’m Jack Frost.”

John’s smiled widened and he looked at the beautiful winter all around them.

“When?” Jack asked abruptly. “When did you first see me? On the street just now?”

John shook his head. “No. I saw you when you came to the station with Jamie and Sophie Bennett.”

A sharp thought raced through Jack’s skull. “Could you see the others?” he asked.

John nodded and bit delicately into a jelly donut. 

Jack’s entire world swayed as if someone had shaken the foundation of it. He abruptly crouched down and put his head between his knees, his staff pressing against the crook of his neck. He breathed in deeply, trying to get a grip. Now that he was so close to Officer John Love, he could feel the man’s belief burning in his center. It was far stronger than the belief of the children. It was a veritable hearth fire that felt capable of heating the entire world. 

“Jamie and Sophie’s mother and step-father will be put away for a long time,” John continued despite Jack having crumpled over with a groan. “It was an open-and-shut case. Abigail Bennett will be granted complete custody. It’s not often that justice works itself out so neatly.”

Jack straightened up, taking a sip of scalding coffee that cooled immediately against his lips. 

“I just wanted you to know I can see you,” John said suddenly as if the words were just spilling out of him. “If anything like this ever happens again, I wanted you to know that I could help you. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

Jack glanced over at the officer and said, “Thank you.”

John let out a relieved breath and continued, “Well, Jack Frost, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Then, he stretched out his hand and it took Jack a moment to take it. When he finally did, John’s hand was rough and so wonderfully warm that Jack nearly sobbed. John squeezed his fingers kindly, giving Jack a little knowing smile that made him wonder what drove John Love to believe in everything so strongly. But the officer started talking again and the moment to ask passed by like two ships in the night. Jack smiled broadly, relishing the donut he had been given like a small child in a candy store. 

…

Jack returned to the North Pole as the day drew into night. His heart felt lighter and warmer than it had in centuries. He had people who believed in him, he had his memories back, and he even had friends. It was insane to think that only a few months had passed since Pitch Black attack and yet Jack had gained so much in such a short time. The three hundred years he had spent alone and unloved felt like they had happened in an entirely different lifetime.

“Jack!” North’s cheerful voice boomed through the workshop when Jack entered. “Welcome back!”

Tooth buzzed over to him in a whirl of colors, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. Baby Tooth came out of nowhere in a flurry of chirps and squeals. She had been busy collecting all the teeth that fell out over Christmas candy and she looked tired, but she still found the energy to fly wildly around Jack’s head before settling against the side of his throat.

Sandy entered with a tray of eggnog and his cheeks were very ruddy against his golden sand, but he certainly looked happy. His sand symbols were lilting and shifty and Jack denied his offer of eggnog. 

Bunny was the last to come to greet him. He hung back a moment, his ears slumped down. All of Jack’s beautiful frost and snow for the recent White Christmas (at North’s bidding) had only reminded Bunny of the terrible Blizzard of ’68. He wanted to apologize again, but held the words back.

Jack flashed Bunny a smile that was beautiful for all its thinness. He floated over on a breath of cool wind and threw his arms around Bunny in a brief hug. It would have felt just as fragile as Jack’s smile if not for the way his fingers carded greedily through Bunny’s soft fur. For what it was worth, Jack forgave Bunny and was willing to give him another chance. 

“Mate,” Bunny ventured.

For a moment, Jack froze, his blue eyes sharply wary.

But Bunny only produced a neatly-wrapped gift from his bandolier and handed it to the winter child. “This is for you. Merry Christmas, mate.”

Jack stared at the gift, uncomprehending. 

“Open it,” North said, patting Jack gently on the back.

The boy jolted, glanced from North to Bunny, and then ripped the paper off as if he had never received a gift before with a mixture of eagerness and pleasure. Inside the simple paper lay a beautifully-painted figurine of a koala. To anyone else, it might not have seemed like much, but to Jack, it was everything. His throat closed and tears welled in his eyes, but he struggled to choke them back.

“Thank you,” he breathed out.

“Don’t cry, Jack,” Tooth said gently, flying quietly at his side. Her hand was as light as s butterfly’s wings on his shoulder. She carried a small present, too, and handed it to him with a smile. Jack almost protested, knowing that if he accepted her gift, he would be just that much closer to breaking down. “Please, Jack,” she murmured. “Take it.”

He took her gift gently in his free hand, holding his staff in the crook of his elbow, and unfolded the shiny paper. Tooth had given him a ring of blue-green feathers, interwoven with sparkling beads and small stones. It jingled softly in his hand and seemed to be still warm with the life and energy in Tooth’s feathers.

Baby Tooth chirped softly in Jack’s ear and rubbed against his cheek as if to say that it was from her and her sisters, too.

“Thank you,” Jack whispered again.

North handed Jack his gift before the frost child could recover, gently sliding the feathers and koala statuette from his grasp. Inside the large box North had given him was a small array of clothing. It contained new jeans in fashionable styles, a belt to replace the rope he used to hold up his pants now, a few t-shirts in different colors, and a new hooded sweatshirt that had been embroidered with snowflakes.

“Yetis helped a lot,” North said before Jack could say anything.

Sandy floated unsteadily over and first tried to hand Jack a mug of spiked eggnog before he produced a beautifully golden wave of dreamsand. He crafted it into the shape of his island home, elaborate mountains and valleys rising out of the golden world. It took Jack a moment through Sandy’s drunkenness and slurred symbols to realized that Sandy was inviting him to come to his home.

“Thank you,” Jack whispered and his voice broke. He turned away, surreptitiously wiping at his eyes with his sleeve.

North patted him on the back again and Baby Tooth nestled closer against his neck. Tooth’s smile was like a strand of beautiful pearls and her happiness was mirrored by Sandy’s grin. Bunny hung back a respectful distance, letting Jack approach first before he touched the frost child’s shoulder gently and nodded to him in a way that meant far more than any words could have.

“Now,” North boomed, his voice echoing against the rafters and cutting through the jingling of countless elves underfoot. “We eat, drink, and be merry!”

Jack smiled, his heart so full that he felt it would burst, but it didn’t. Everything was wonderful.

X X X

(1) So, Pine is the last name of Jack Frost’s voice actor and now also the last name of Olivia’s husband. (And in those days, Olivia would have been buried with her husband rather than with her family, the Overlands.)

And with that, we are finished!

First, drop me a REVEIW and let me know what you thought of everything! Are you all scarred for life? Child abuse is a subject very near and dear to my heart. It’s hard to write and I’m sure it’s hard to read, but it’s something we should always talk about and be aware of.

Second, there will be NO SEQUEL—at all—so don’t ask!

Third, I own nothing except my original characters (like Aunt Abby and Officer John) and my original plotline. 

Please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! **The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger.** (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

And so, I bid you adieu.


End file.
